Mark Brophy

Home » Poetry » Cut me

Cut me


You cut my throat;
I’ll cut yours.
On your way out
watch your arse
on the swinging double doors.

I can’t have it –
feel a fool
I’d rather both have
nothing than
if I had less than you.

Bandit country
starts right there
The line of
demarcation’s where
I get up from my chair.

Owe you nothing,
want zip back
if you can’t make it
on your own
you’re just rats in a sack.

I’m not waiting,
I won’t walk
Think we should be on
the same side?
Well, that’s just crazy talk.

I’ll do my job;
you do yours
Tomorrow I
expect my train
with open double doors


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