The Tenth Circle of Hell
Wed, 09 Mar 2016
Your hell...blow Dante, you said,
was a circle of chintz-back chairs.
To add insult to injury – gave you
a country-cottage puzzle to do
to pass the time and you told them
in no uncertain terms they could stick it
where the sun didn’t shine. Eff off,
It was a purpose built circle within
a circle...all roads led to home
so no one could get lost...all arrows
painted on the floor – colour codes,
grab rails – Velcro-fastening slippers,
chair-lifts, and photos of the past.
The thing was, you weren’t nuts
not in the normal sense...true – you wore
Paddi-Pads and needed a pelican bib,
your inhibitions you’d thrown to the wind,
and had obsessions for biscuits...food
in general...anything didn’t move – fair game.
And you had tantrums, not forgetting
your violent tendencies, but still you had
a whole load of marbles...more marbles left
than most are dished out with in the first place.
Walking round in circles – you grew giddy
and so, I bailed you out...for now, but the truth –
plain to see, I lost your trust. So...fuck Dante
and his circles, I’ve my own private hell;
it’s you and me shaped, and our long