Inches

Inches

this itch 

you can’t reach 

you try to scratch 

you fall on your back 

at least 

it’s the sort of pain 

you can try to treat 

with tiny pills and your hands 

will the art make amends 

I can’t forget all the stings 

you bring new things 

into my plans 

I pick them up 

too late 

now the table 

has been set