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{no side to fall in} david mclean no side to fall in but whatever misses this retention of the feeble dead inside me, they turn restless today in my fleshy coffin and sleep uneasy to wake tomorrow holding cancer in hands as weapons against us, pain’s memory that feeds their need, bodies that forgot the sheet and the pillow and the impressed bed depressed by their gravity, the waiting twisting them under heaven, years that stored piles of self-pity in us when compassion never extended its ribbed and passioned hand to the soil, the earth under the borderland we walk on, no side to fall in as were we dead already all history a pinprick – we are still |
