From the Corporate Anthology

A shout out to the dreamers,

—Baked beaners.

Street sweepers, full-beamers.

Butchers, bakers and candlestick cleaners.

From the corporate marketing Zoom callers,

To a vaguely defined group of consumers.

We’ll take your cash but ease the pain,

With dramatic cadence and cliché.

Speed it up—

…slow it down.

Make it all feel more profound.

And ground your words in humble roots,

With clear-skied shots of Northern towns.

Appeals to phoney wartime spirit,

Mixed with local dialect—

“Make us a cuppa and a proper brew”—

And general fear of the internet.

Covid, back to work,

A bit about too many phones,

Every day heroes, sepia tone shots of

Yer da skipping stones.

Syntax, swapped to force a rhyme.

Break of scheme to hammer home poignant messaging.

So get out, switch it up, change the world!

With your friendly, local [insert here].

Give us your fucking money.

Or we’ll endear you even more.

I found love on Naked Attraction

I found love on Naked Attraction

Between the arse crack of a stranger. See,

The faintest glint of destiny

Unhindered by our clothes.

The pattern wrapped ‘round her upper thigh

She has dedicated to Mum’s mortality.

The heart-shaped human tragedy

Inked on tender skin.

The patterns etched ‘round her hardened wrist

She has no choice but to keep them now

And take each glance and furrowed brow

In rediscovered stride.

They say that she’s wearing nothing, but

She scratches at the fabric

Of the overcoat that’s woven

From insecurities.

My civilised brain tells me that I

Should protect this injured modesty.

But I’m taken by the honesty

In everything I see.