Author name: Rattle

Poems

Hit and Run

My therapist tells me I’m better off if you’re dead.

I mean, not dead-dead,
maybe I’m paraphrasing.

Audio, Poems

Farthing

In Victorian London, a farthing could buy you three oysters, with bread and
butter, from an oyster-seller walking the streets. Or in the East End, a sparrow
that God has forgotten to look out for.

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