POETRY

Decaying

Free verse poetry

Writing’s distracted again, Green letters on a white bag Containing dusty snorkelling gear Exclaiming, “Use Me!” hangs on a hook Decaying through sea salt and mould in front of me, Just far enough away for me to forget about most times.

It’s not going to cleanse itself It’s going to decay more and more Until it breaks, maybe the handle will snap Or a hole will tear open in its rotting side spilling Snorkelling gear as I just sit and watch it crashing to the floor. Or, how about I get up off my lazy arse and do something about it.

Thank you Lucy (the eggcademic) for giving my words here a platform to noodle at The Brain is a Noodle. Thank you all for reading. Always. J.