You Find Yourself

pulled out of a hole,
spanked to make you breathe

sharp in the knife drawer,
paired in the sock drawer

folded neatly along the creases
in the airing cupboard

arranged with the ornaments
on the mantelpiece

snored at in the bedroom
diced, minced, fried in the kitchen

crumpled in the washing basket
tumbled on the spin cycle

dibbered in plastic pots
weeded in the borders

force fed in a hospice,
cremated and boxed in.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.