I can taste it

I can taste it

The marrow in my bones

Is like toothpaste

I am a Squeezebox

Play me.

There is nothing

To stop the jiggle

The jelly roll

Shiver me with the back

Of your hand.

How many times

Have I tasted blood

Only to ask for more

Condiments

Brown paper and vinegar.

Stand me up

Roll with the punches

It is the least you can do

I can smell the sweat

On my hands.

Honest to god

Is an overused expression

But righteously invoked.

As the rod breaks

Tie me to a tree

It will stop the fall

When my legs have gone

Walkabout

Leaving the rest behind.

All of this has happened before

Grieving is hollow,

Humour me bleak,

In the worst of times

When everything that was

Happens

All over again,

Because it can

Just for the craic.