And work is to be sniffed at
My ribs are of wax
And my face chiselled glue
Melt me under your pressure
Blow your words like blisters
And I’ll die
A comb of teeth line my poorly gums
I’ve chewed endlessly on the same strip of meat
I’ve diced my Jesus and Jehovah with prayers
Washed and wrung out,
I am hungry like the wolf.
I am mouldy like avocado
And I won’t ripen in the heat of your whip.
I walk in mist, you chain and screw my eyes to the paperwork
And I, a mess, distasteful like sour milk,
Curdle and waste away
I’m tired of work
Chipping away at your hate for a candle-drop of kindness.