FloatingA Poem by Andrew JohnFreeverse
Jenny, they say,
will face a tragedy. Is it not something always predicted this way? Will it be Jenny? Or Pete or Paul? We glance every day among those tabloid papers - so many. We read headlines, blink, then another front page; or see this or that on TV. Yes, we tut-tut. We always go this self-same way. You reach an advanced age. So so. Ah yes, so so. (written Sep 2022; posted Jan 2023) © 2023 Andrew John |
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