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7

here’s an idea, let’s geld the creditors,

let’s line them up in the shadow of the Gherkin

and geld the lot, I mean proper cut off

their balls and throw their balls out

for the fish in the river to eat their balls,

tell them that their balls, if the fish don’t scoff them,

will bob away into the vast sea where no one

will find them because there’s no way through the sea,

no paths marked out to follow, to find a way,

tell them that this how life is

when you fail to win, tell them this

is what life is like when joy doesn’t

live in the city, and I’ll tell them my story,

tell them how I believed I’d won,

how that belief first came in a game of table tennis,

I believed I had the reactions but I couldn’t

move and the ball kept hitting my head,

another time I believed it as I swam down

this river, not the ball-full river, and because

I didn’t drown I believed I was winning the race

and another time, when I was wanton with longing,

I believed I was winning because I could

go from one woman to the next to the next

and none of them would comment on my haste,

none of them would even say a word,

we’d fuck and then I’d pump my fist in the air,

shout that this is what I’d worked for, then leg it

out to the next woman, no, I was never weary,

never tired, never empty, I was brimming

with it all, but I’ll tell the creditors

that there’s no such thing as winning,

there’s only endurance, keeping on,

never lagging, not being caught,

emphasise that to them, the importance

of not being caught and I’ll tell them

another story, one of how all rivers

meet the sea, how all seas meet other seas,

how I lied, how there are ways through the water

if you know them and then I’ll geld them

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About michaeleganpoetry

Liverpool based poet and editor. I have had four pamphlets of poetry published, most recently After Stikklestad (Knives, Forks and Spoons Press, 2010). Penned in the Margins published my first collection, Steak & Stations, in 2010.

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