Irene

Make offers taste so sweet, no need for distance, look at my swollen feet, strained to my bones, wonder about his place, its heart beat a stone, buses churn along the street, blown in with the rain, this harbour is no retreat, alone with surly motto's, just what to say, will he simply condone, laugh at my testimony, subject driven day after day, ask what price offertory, when my jokes are torn, the useless games we play, ask him for money owed, he sneers at my beseecching, says he's in a cage, who is he to believe, lies across my face ?