SCRIBBLERS INN

Poems from Moss Rich

 
 
 
     
    PAVEMENT SNAPSHOTS OF THE DISPOSSESSED
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                                                                                        THE SIMPLE LIFE

     

    The tenant of the pavement patch

    No longer lives at home.

    He’s left his door without a latch,

    His garden without a gnome.

     

    He choose to live the simple life,

    The rat race he abhors,

    He has no child, no mum, no wife

    No yacht, not even a horse.

     

    His dog beside him share his view,

    Neither – it’s clear – can cope.

    The dog doesn’t even sniff at you,

    He too has given up hope.

     

     

                            BIG ISSUE

     

    We see them glumly loitering

                            by the grocery super-store,

    And offering BIG ISSUE

                            with a thin, uncertain sound,

    And as we lug our bursting bags

                            which almost scrape the ground

    We shudder with aversion

                            as we slam the taxi door.

    (BIG ISSUE is the name of a journal for homeless,

     currently being sold on the streets.)

     

     

                                                                                        THE PRAYER

     

    The pavement squatter’s muttering, praying,

    Listen – you’ll hear what he is saying.

     

    “Merciful Lord, I thank you well

    That you ordained that I should dwell

     

    Midst godly folk who – heeding your ways

    Nightly grant me sheltered doorways

     

    Wherein my weary bones I lay

    Refreshed for begging one more day”