Ravenous Crows – Written Tuesday 22nd December (Aged 45)

Ravenous Crows

they were ravenous crows
who pecked me
and tried to disrupt my nest
those who pounded my door
till wood splinters
found me on a hill of spilt soup
then i wrestled my identity
in some,
all star billing,
where the rosy victorian promotor
earned just six shillings
money for the depth
of sickly hope
that put footprints on my back
money for the depth
of enlightened words
that sat upon my eager tongue
and who was that,
party loving medium
who, all those years ago
convinced me that
the ravenous crows who so pecked me
where not worth their salt
when youthful days,
sprang forward with an exciting jolt
when padlocks seemed less necessary
and i felt the warmth of a truly secure bolt

James Garratt – Tuesday 22nd December 2020

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