Sunday, 15 March 2009

Even the poor have poor

Being poor comes in many shapes

you balance life lived on tightropes

old decaying grandeur but fresh eggs,
and wild hunts for moorland rabbits with
open fields for play and magic twigs

swopped for slipper baths and piss
yet on the streets the east and more
calls with exotic faces that others hiss

until the compact luxuries of prefab
squeeze us in the bargains of a life
until to breathe you escape by minicab

when does a house become a home
how long the streets did I roam.

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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.

This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.