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Stand or sit straight, book resting low
so your listeners can see your eyes.
Breathe deeply from the belly.
Keep the throat open
and voice projected, not forced.
Relax, inhale…

Hug the woman nearby and whisper
a harsh secret in her ear.

Scratch something ’til it hurts.

Roll in the grass with hind legs kicking,
back arched, muzzle searching the air.

Cry from the groin in a vomit of grief,
red-faced and breathless.

Trip over the curb
watching a beauty stroll by.

Say something stupid just to get a laugh,
like “Wankel Rotary Engine”.

Stand up and shout at the TV:
“You haven’t answered the question!”
when they don’t answer the question.

Bend down to your knees
to wrestle with a child.

Lie with the one who mainlines
burning ice through your veins.

Thank your listeners

This poem will be in my upcoming collection “The End of an Ordinary Life”, available soon in paperback and Kindle. See my Amazon author’s page for more.

If you found the piece above worthwhile, please buy me a cuppa.

“Heaven is a library of every book ever written, eternity to sit and read, and a bottomless cup of the best coffee.”

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