Bear
Bear, you’re a mouth that breathes while it chews
and you spray your wisdom on bits of bread
Bear you’re a man who lives fast and loose
with a loneliness cavernous inside your head
Bear can I ask you to eat your own tongue
when you spy bought bargains in Waitrose?
Bear do you think you could take your own risks
and pair cigarettes and skins at the checkout?
Bear you’re an eye that rolls down the hill
to spook the wildlife of the valley;
an ear making holes as they sing; with a kiss
and a skip you will throw yourself in
Bear you’re a dad, but you were never a child;
bear you’re a man, but you did fuck all;
bear you’ve been running with time in the wilds
of my heart, where with Plato I’ve stared at the wall
Silas Gorin lives in Hereford where he continues to examine English on behalf of Empire’s attempt to both go gently, and rage, at the same time.