There are spikes on the ledge
because birds would alight
if there wasn’t those spikes
and that wouldn’t be right
There are spikes on the ledge
so the birds cannot perch
and distract me with twittering
from my er research
There are spikes on the ledge
did some oxonian twit
think that students’ abodes
must be shielded from shit?
There are spikes on that ledge
it may seem strange to you
but instead of steel needles
I’d rather see poo
There are spikes on the ledge
Up on Holywell Street
If there weren’t maybe birds
would look in while I eat
and revise and boil water
and dress and lose keys
and write poor rhyming poems
about my dis- ease
into love out of bed
latex allergies, pills,
Anglo Saxons, Victorians
rips, tumbles, spills,
scattered tea-bag insides
burst tobacco, knocked ash,
a wash basin dye stained
a dire absence of cash
churning paper-drifts
wires, crumbs, odd socks,
hairs, scarves, string
pregnancy test toothbrush
birthdaycard uneaten brownie
jar chutney smelly pillow
drool highlighter flower
gin rubbish thumbtack candle
bank bother bill letter
petals biros notes beads
condom crap charger but no BOD card
no keys where the fuck grit
bells dirties unrhymable
bits crap why do I stuff so much HAVE?
There are spikes on the ledge
in a less whingey mood
I would celebrate life
worry less about food
mock my damn First-World "strife"
find my blessings uncountable
squeal with delight
at the pink blossom green grass blue sky tea party laughter BIG BREATH IN
at the honour the light
I’d pay tributes to everything
Touch you with grace
make your souls rise and sing
with the peace on my face
But today I’m a misery-guts on the edge
And I’m dwelling on how there are spikes on the ledge.
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etcetera.online
