Sober as a Drunken Judge
by Ross Leese
the days stagger over the hills like black hearses on a merry go round.
there is no sun in my mornings, nor am I likely ever to pray for any.
I can be arrogant beyond all human reasoning.
I am black tongued and cancer eyed, the rain rides my back
like debt. I pay back the devil, pay back the banks, pay back the soulless soldiers
dying for god, queen and country here there and everywhere (the poor bastards).
I am selfish and provocative. I am immediately steadfast and interchangeable.
I am a bad poet and a good fool. I have grey hairs and brown toenails. I am handsome
but never make an effort. I have long eyelashes and walk with a swagger.