poems by John Grey
Dealing With The Government Bureaucrats with their offending eyes, sinister thick and meaty blackbirds
e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
Dealing With The Government Bureaucrats with their offending eyes, sinister thick and meaty blackbirds
Ode to Cider This cider was once an apple – go figure.
Handover End of the work day, sun setting, park my car by the stream, walk along the banks, stop to watch minnows gather in the stillness.
The kids of my year So there they are – not in alphabetical order but in three rows by height –
Top of the world We’re flying over snow-buried land, flat and tree-less. This desolation is the quickest route between two places where people live.
Two sides to my waking I awake in the room next to your sick-bed. Through the thin wall, I hear grunting sounds, sandpaper coughs, your rough imitation of your own voice.
A Dismal Place No joy in the world merely cattle nibbling lush grass sprouting from tilted tombstones in an old historic graveyard.
Grace In this dimly-lit attic, you open a trunk, unleash the Korean War.
The Kitchen Knives and I been here forever still straining to hear that lost chord linger after the others leave living under the constant pressure
History Repeats I sat out on the sun deck watching history repeat itself. My next-door neighbor left for work. His kids headed off to the school bus stop.