Trinkets-And-Trifles Poem by Mark Heathcote

Trinkets-and-trifles, what more could I expect
From a man who wears his boxers outside his vest
And drives on through the rain on an empty tank
Who, drives-on-through life dying of thirst?

Trinkets-and-trifles, what more could I expect
From a hero who doesn't do any more than curse
At everybody, at everybody else's expense
Who sees his life as an empty loser's purse?

Gazing at stars looking for answerers
Drowning in a river winding through a door
Or a sidewalk without a day's work foreshore
What more could I expect from a lame dog
Needing a vet?

But these trinkets-and-trifles
These endless nights with their deep-down hurts
Trinkets-and-trifles, what more could I expect
To find behind your revolving rolling-eyes-diverts.

What more could I learn sweetheart-beside-you
But to fly like a bird to where my own heart
Might-be-heard for more than just a comforting word
And a nursing kind of solace, a nursing kind of love to depart.