You’re covered in the shit of life.
Great big clumps of it.
Hands jammed so far down,
You have become,
A statue in the park.
Someone once told me,
Look up when you’re down,
There’s God in the clouds.
-rabbits in tuxedo’s and hedgehogs exploding
bands of men with strong pointed noses
streams of women with long flowing scarves
platters of cheese and housewives in bath-tubs-
-stoves and kettles and cottages
I look up and try and see,
Hoping only for some rain,
evocative short poetry – words move