paracetemol soup

love
(what’s wrong with it?) can’t do without
home
the most important place
(love when I think of home)
love it’s true I daren’t say it
the bank writing me love letters
security, savings, minus, plus
my dad singing over the rainbow
throwing coins in the air
noisy
movement
my brother is bent double with arthritis
I am an expert in pain disabled incurable
backache we’ve all got it why haven’t you?
you’ve got to drink gallons and gallons of
paracetemol soup
we’ve all got it like income tax
there’s no escape
bloody hell, miracles
luck
love


Louis Marx, Margot Blake, Gloria Ordman
October 2007

Photo © Lois Blackburn 2008