Didn’t realise how worthless until you had no money.
A job was lost, one you had, didn’t want, and the one that pillow time said -‘keep forever.’
It’s what was said – ‘what a waste of a great talent’ – but some of Tom Wolfe’s ‘Right Stuff’ still lingering.
Stand up, count to two – ‘one, two?’ One is lost, another lives in a locker, and this is Ireland after all.
No bus, no fare anyway, go for a walk.
And this is the first time, a new time, maybe keep this ‘tradition’, pass it on to children you don’t have.
Time now brings you here, to throw cold water over a family’s head – ‘Money? Now!’
That was a day of invention, it’ll be your new, then an old bad habit.
Second thoughts, so another long walk, one enjoyed by your forefathers, beg from a State.
It’s not happening today, a place is turning on you, on the ‘burden’, time again to quickly disconnect.
Over days, weeks, a paper chase, evidence mounting, logic and detail, drawing the self-inflicted sinner, the self-harmer, a Killer, You.
Shooting people in their bodies, backs of their heads, in their faces, some consequences.
Thriller headlines and a long wait to catch a guilt.
You beat them to it, Wolfe would be proud.
SauceBox on Ice pauljohnwelsh on Ice SauceBox on Ice Pablo Cuzco on A zoology pauljohnwelsh on WWI
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