Category: Poems
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Snipe Hunt (The Jobseeker’s Lament)
You’re terribly kind and polite / I am sure / when you ask how the snipe hunt is going; / and you offer to buy me a coffee or cake / since I’ve nowhere else to be.
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There Will Be Days
There will be days / When the words won’t flow / When grief is a stopper in the throat-hands-mind
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Winter Coat
My old puffer jacket / Is like an ancient cat: / Round, fat, black / curled in on itself for warmth…