A DISTURBING DAY
The phone rings
Waking me,
It’s half-8 Saturday morning
Another lost in all-consuming hangover oblivion
And once I answer I’m back off to bed minutes later
Only to be roused by a loud LOUD banging
Just a few moments later.
What the fuck is that noise I beg to the sky as
Drums march through my destroyed mind
As outside its carnival time and I know the
Misery will not stop until it’s all gone
And the promise comes that it will last hours.
Back here though the sound is dimmed
And today I’d rather just hole up
Ignoring the party outside where no doubt
The beautiful will be posing and the
Crazies will be dancing and I’ll be sat here
Reading some outlaw poetry.
Bradford Middleton was born in London in 1971 but didn’t begin writing poetry until he moved to Brighton during 2007. He knew no-one and had no money so it helped fill his nights. Now widely published in small press circles if you like go be his friend on Facebook @bradfordmiddleton1.
Fixator Press 