SICK LIT MAGAZINE

I am the rain

on a cloudy day

when you’re trying to move

into a new apartment,

soaking through cardboard boxes

until your clothes are wet,

your books are ruined,

and your cutlery

needs to go back

through the dishwasher.

 

Look,

I don’t mean to be depressing,

I’m just a reflection

of the times we live in;

you’ve seen it in the news,

this year is a bad year

for celebrity deaths

and world politics.

 

But I shy away from all that,

I’ve done it to death;

this year was my year,

at least for a little bit,

and there’s still six weeks

for me to make

a go of it.

 

The church bells

are ringing;

it sounds more like a death

than a marriage.

 

And now my colleagues

are going

to a boxing match,

but I’d rather stay

in my humble abode;

I don’t go in for violence

and boxing is a bumfight

on a wider scale.

 

And now the church bells

have stopped,

and my heart

can’t take this

any longer;

 

I’d better get back

to poisoning myself

with the petals

of flowers.

Dane Cobain (High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire, UK) is an independent poet, musician and storyteller with a passion for language and learning. When he’s not in front of a screen writing stories and poetry, he can be found working on his book review blog or developing his website, www.danecobain.com.  His first collection of poetry, Eyes Like Lighthouses When the Boats Come Home, was released by Booktrope Editions in March of 2016.