In Moments, Like These. Poem by Alistair Plint

Forking out
more cash, than the president has
just to maintain life
chews at my heart like
vultures on a skinless
carcass
(though, the heart is just a shape)

Does it matter, that I'm unacceptable?

Who knows, yet we can label it

If they asked me to
choose a relationship status;
with choices like
single or
taken
I'd almost certainly
ink the words
"who.... cares"
to the monitor
in permanent marker
then burn bread
(Don't have a toaster)

Or sit and stare at the stars
for hours and hours
before I
sleep
with the moon
holding on to
that feeling
in my gut
"done it"!

And loved it


[.]