Hell
In Dante’s Inferno, when trying to describe
the houses of Hell’s lamentations
the torments, the trials, laid quick to ascribe
amidst the curses and blessings of nations
I Was Only Trying
I was only trying to be sensitive, my Mother always said
be mindful of others, offending
but she was good at it, she didn’t hold back
lived a life she did and if others
Clive James
To parch me worse than all the ills that waste
My features.
The unbending justice which
Examines me and makes me breathe in haste.
Where were we?
What was it? Where were we? Yesterday?
that made me stay away,
reined me in, stopped me calling,
not that you could hear me
Why Would You Want to be Old?
My days are numbered I know that well
it is why I’m stuck here in this living hell
the biscuits stale, the tinkle of tea
and the nurses told not to bother with me