When the Dogs Bite

Monday 28 October 2024

28th October 2024

bright sunshine

bringing stark shadows

barking terrier

my husband's eyes do not reflect the stars

though married we are not, and yet, we are

for in a sheltered place we said our vows

in front of friends and lovers, took our bows.

If music be the food of love, playlists

once fed our passion through the mists

where rabbits played, though long the years have passed

since dawn released us to our separate cars

he, to his family and kids; me perked

with tea and cigarettes, drive home to work

and process unemployment claims and laugh

in love while suffering the bigotry of staff.

A mental breakdown followed with a fall

but for the love he gave, I would not survive at all.

Sunday 27 October 2024

27th October 2024

woken early

since the clocks have gone back

impatient dogs

Ivy's house had doors too low

for normal folk; a bungalow

but built for those of shorter head:

"This cannot do at all," she said.

She asked the landlord for a raise

to all the doors and ceilings, "Gaze

upon my injured head,

just from rising from my bed."

But no. He showed her housing regs

which clearly stated "Those with legs

of normal size are not entitled to a rise

but can instead take on the guise

of smaller folk: Request a grant

to pay for costs your pension can't."

My aunt filled out the online form

provided proof of income, shorn

of all the money she expended

for the bills her legs extended

and was duly paid all fees

to amputate below her knees.

Saturday 26 October 2024

26th October 2024

cranky old geezer

burning his garden rubbish

green smoke, falling ash

the bra that I'm wearing is awfully tight

it's pulling at my shoulders and doesn't sit right

it flattens my boobies and stops them wobbling

but the pressure on shoulders is really quite hobbling

I'll get through jiu-jitsu and then take it off

through teaching and sparring, the pressure to cough

has left me too tired to night-walk the dog-

he'll pee in the garden come rain or cone fog.

It's morning and now my whole shoulder's in pain

One bra in the bin. I'll not wear it again.

Friday 25 October 2024

25th October 2024

becoming forgetful

where do I live, again?

crumbling tower block

my father died in January,

a couple of days before my sister's birthday

and I went out to play boardgames

because I didn't want to travel

the two hours to Birmingham

after a long work day.

In the crematorium

the sun shone through the rain

and the celebrant made the same joke

he must have made a thousand times

about the sun shining on the righteous

and though he was a decent man,

Dad would have denied the moniker.

He was able to hold a grudge

for the smallest of reasons,

like the Vicar telling him

"It's good to see you after so long,"

or the neighbour three doors down

borrowing his wheelbarrow for more than the hour he said.

He was a man of his time;

casually racist, homophobic, transphobic,

but he'd stand up for the right of anyone

to go about their life without judgement

though in private he'd have pet names for them

rude and demeaning

but never to their face

unless it was couched in sarcasm.

Thursday 24 October 2024

24th October 2024

shower time

from the bedroom window

Cookie barking

leg triangle

first time it's been easy

since the covid lockdown.

One tiny step in the program

but a huge confidence boost for me.

Wednesday 23 October 2024

23rd October 2024

bus shelter light

the whirling coalescence

of morning mist

dude,

it may look cool

and feel terrific

but doing a wheelie on your motorbike

at forty miles per hour

on a dark Sheffield road

means your headlight points at the sky

and I can't see you at all;

just an dark absence of light

in the general shape of a wing nut

which pretty much

sums you up.

Tuesday 22 October 2024

22nd October 2024

a hint of sunshine

making the day seem brighter

joyful dogs

walking dogs

to an estate sale in Bromsgrove

carrying a rucksack full of stones

the colour of raw salmon flesh.

An old girlfriend buying a jumper

and asking if it suits her.

It does, but that doesn't mean I like it.

pottery, painted with acrylics

the therapeutic nonsense of art classes for the elderly

and my mother-in-law,

knocking a gravestone made of lacquered terracotta

into a meandering river.

a stall selling board games;

I want to buy them all,

though I have nobody to play with

and my collection in the loft

is another boulder in my rucksack.