A Home of Sorts

Dust rains down like tears
as a pigeon takes to flight
the weak Autumn sunlight
penetrates the shadows to fight
death, dereliction and decay

weathered boards bleached white
wear the scars of a former life
and a latter life of hard use
and now of abuse and misuse.

Rot eats away sections
exposed to sun and rain
on the drier segment stains
leech upward, misery and blood
bleeding from the dead wood.

Stains of beer and spilt wine
gaging stench of shit and urine
burn marks from fires lit to ignite
and reduce poison consumed by night

Horse reduced to liquid on burnished spoons
ending life to soon, cutlery of hell
stolen from restaurants and hotels
or from the bodies of those who fell.

Victims of affliction and the curse
of use and addiction
and here they lay in bits and part
the already dead
who call this gallery a home of sorts

©Dave Kavanagh 2016

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