Bro

Brother killed himself, a something for nothing to think about
Dixie Bro, sexy Bro, saint Bro, attention deficit disorder Bro
Took his cleaned-up tools to the Department of Parks and Gardens, cured wheelbarrows of their heavy dirt, cut the grass virus, a Chelsea Flower Show TV show watcher supporter
Green scented Mayor Bro but election campaign fell over the edge, into the hewn earth – ‘Free coal for Widows!’ rang out, untouched by an Eton bargepole
I settled down, made a banner, sewn paisley threads, put a cliché stitch together with brown child labour, gave them acid, the taste of my own medicine
I made my Bro the new Mister deceased face recognised paraded around a vile town, the long-lasting never hearing the end of it started there
Grade A love stone erected to Bro

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