“God darn it! ”
“It’s hell trying to
mend the hole in this sock! ”
Every time I try to thread
the needle through
I can’t ‘cos
of the million...billion or so
(who’s counting? Who cares?)
Angels
on the top of its tip
...dancing.
“Bloody angels”
“Go on...bugger off...go on
get outta it! |”
I hit out with the holey sock
gripped tightly in my fist.
Angels! Angels!
scattered all over
(how many?)
who knows!
(the floor) .
I hoover them up
& get on with the task at hand
Mending the hole
in this bloody black sock.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
But a wise woman once told me that 'A stitch in time saves (9) Angels! ' You are SO amusing with your chain of thought! Angels on the head of my needle, indeed!