SONG OF THE DISGRACED PERSON

Jack Underwood

As a fire axe waits in its little shop window
As a tongue returns raw to the lozenge
It’s not your fault you’re like this, but you are
As consternation at the departure gate
As drinking water to find it creamy
As the linseed head of an ant might contain
a social code in play
As suffering comes home from work
with the same names as yesterday
As you forget to taste
As you borrow a sigh from the same cubic meters of air
As a too-slow handshake might signal sarcasm
It’s not who you are but who you are and can’t undo
As you shit in a room without water
As you cry in a room without light
We send our love
We send an invoice attached as requested
As if everything were intended for you