When did you last look at the moon?Not glance, as you dashed indoorsfrom the cold. Or without care, from thesteamy window of the take away.I mean…
You leave the top off the juice cartonyou held me tightYou leave jam in the butteryou said you’d never leaveYou leave mud in the hallway…
i am regular.
i am harold.
i am an active participant in society.
i work, i spend,
i marry, i breed,
In the paper that I readI saw how he left.A sudden tragedywhilst doing good.Bringing focusto the unseen thousandscold on the streets.But no life is givento waste, to decline.Every word, every readerhis legacy.