A Deranged Silence
What siren’s mad song
drew this sailor’s eye
from the horizon
into the cold depths of water.
The Stubble and Sweat
Some days are blessed,
and some days are chaos.
Some days you’re rubbed up
the wrong way by stubble and sweat.
Some days are tattooed on you,
you’ll pay the piper in your afterlife.
Mum had a rule: no talking with a full mouth.
I always thought she was the piper.
No one dared speak during dinner.
Mealtime was a deranged silence.