Some people are like

ancient steeple:

to be admired from afar

but up close 

they just hurt like any

old crick

in the neck.

And you know I’m right

on this one;

and those of you who’ve

been following 

closely will have seen

before I did that

some of my friends weren’t 

and some of my enemies aren’t.

And ain’t it just true.

And ain’t it


ain’t, after all the

tall stories you’ve spun


And all the talk and the glib 

and the adult bib

and the dummy and the

rum thoughts and the


And yet still I am here.

And yet still I 


And my turn shall be fair

and my turn shall 


round you, but

like no embrace you ever

knew or dreamt or felt 


sensed in your biggest 


Leave a reply:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s