Geriatrics, white coats
Smell of urine and bleach
Eyes reading empty
Heads cleared of vandalism
Now the bookshelves have gone,
Melons opened and all
The seeds spilled, swedes
Mashed to carrots,
Memories, like
Crumpled photographs
All Falling like snow,
Clinicians arguing
Like clip board toting geese,
A tense television murmuring
About a realisation of soup,
Imagining oneself reincarnated
In a bullet proof vest, which matches
The newsreaders purple tie;
He reads the headlines.

Questions flow, forms filled
Unwanted truth hurts,
Like terrorists, answers
Are dangerous

Where does the universe start? Or end,
Why is their blood on my arm?
How many beans make five?
Does that needle have to hurt?
Who ate the cheese?
Where is my life at?
How many days in December or
Men to change light bulbs
Will it take for you to let me go?

Steve Mearns

Steve Mearns

Steve Mearns 52 lives in Shropshire with his partner. Steve has been writing poetry for 3 years and has had poetry published in Down in the Dirt and Mudfish magazines (USA) and the UK Webzine Ink Sweat & Tears. He will be performing at the 2015 Wenlock Poetry Festival. His work has also been performed live at the Poetry Cafe in Chicago and Eat Up in Shrewsbury.
Steve Mearns

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