It’s always a fine line,
come the reckoning time
for the slow and weak to be picked off the herd;
while we, still in the race
to stay out of bottom place,
can kid ourselves they got what they deserved.
They were finally caught out
for all that loafing about
while we in the warm will trample each other.
Because I’m alright Jack,
I’ve got my own back;
and I’m just fast enough to use you for cover.
I’m safe in the middle,
but they’re on the fiddle,
while that poor chap couldn’t have been keener.
I’ll be sad to see him gone,
but he was never very strong;
you see, my friends and I, we voted Hyena.
Harry Gallagher co-founded and co-runs The Stanza, a monthly poetry night in Newcastle. He gigs regularly across the North and his poetry has been published widely. In 2014 he co-authored “Dark…
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