Last Man Standing

I will not be a beggar,
A kerb stone,
A fence,

I am not the lost and found luggage,
Or the nearly finished herb jar
At the base of the spice rack,

I am not camomile tea,
A day trip to the zoo
Or a hen party nightcap.

I will not be a dreamer,
I once was,
It was really appealing
But far too distracting,

I am not a cruise ship slideshow,
Or the over priced popcorn
At a Leicester square cinema,

I am not spicy cashew nuts,
A sit-com Christmas special
Or sex in hotel toilets.

At best I’m that feeling
That something’s not quite right,

The language of trees in a small storm,
An Eskimo praying for sun,

An argument you should never have started,
A memory coming undone.

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