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Pound Shop Green Frogs

looks down on her tears
at the argument in her home over who should have the troublesome Staffy who ragged the leather sofa
in their Caravan at Skeg-Vegas on their honeymoon.
Coffee goes cold in the mugs as a money spider creeps into her hair when she laughs at his suggestion that she only defends others,
turns her second hand diamond wedding ring round and round her finger because it feels good.
Her tears taste like morning salt from the high tide waves, and his night sweat when he is full on,
and she the dry sand in his belly button
briefly grits her newly shaven thighs.
She pulls him out of his own blood
after he is beaten by yobboes
after facing up to their standing
on a blackbird's who has a broken wing.

Paul Brookes