Losers

The trouble is, there's too much peace
The union leader said
There's no demand for guns and planes
What can we do instead?

The trouble is, there's too much peace
The politician sighed
I can't fly in to show the flag
Reflect our national pride

The trouble is, there's too much peace
That's the phrase they use
I'm not sure that's the problem
When I read the news

27/9/11

Removals

The car waddled over the speed bumps
And entered the college car park,
Sitting low on its springs,
Weighed down with stuff
And expectations

We climbed the stairs
And saw the room -
Blank and unobjectionable,
Then ferried the awkward boxes up
Adding personality and clutter
By increments

In no time it was finished
We parted
I returned in an empty car
To an emptier house


19/9/11


[a revised and extended version of this poem appears in the new collection Removals]

Treatment

At the sex clinic
There's no appointment system:
It's first come, first served

10/9/11