Austerity by Lucy Furlong

I am not a silent poet

in each escape from the latest cut
there is no trusty hat pulled out
from a closing tomb or laser
forcefield , avalanche, landslide

each escape is a letting go
of a dream, a job, a holiday, a meal,
a home, an ambition, an expectation,
a future, security, equality, a chance

is being homeless-at-home in middle age
a single parent with the rug pulled out
in debt, ignored, lonely, anxious, desperate
the sheets hanging out of the window

unknotted and falling, no one to catch us
when we

fall

no
safety
net
left

a harder nudge each few months
while I Brace! Brace! for both of us

hope against hope the push from
behind is pushed out of office and

wall
a
against
^ up ^

before there is nothing left to cut

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