Jim

JIM

your body’s twisted like a stick

you can’t write or read
or sing, or play piano
or the flute or tenor sax,
or fold a piece of paper
into a flower or a
napkin, or a
bird

thirty, and you only say two words
one of them is ‘please’ -
the other's 'mum'

the rest of your vocabulary's
expressed in bleats -
it often sounds like a
herd

but the way you chuck a ball
would get you in the
New York Yankees, or the
Wheelchair Grenadiers

and when I act the arse –
pretend to trip, or drop a cup,
or hit a bum bass chord,
you laugh

and laugh

and laugh and laugh
and laugh

you laugh like a champ –
like life depended on it

it does

there’s nothing better
you could possibly do

it’s the best thing
anyone could do