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Poem	(1) the ordinary you are not interested in me a receiver of food and a giver of shit my brain knuckled under i have rendered the skills of my limbs to generations of caesars and caesar's gods have siphoned off my spirit by day i have been trained to dismember my own brothers my own pieces travel through the night yearning for union in every land i am the bulk the bricks you build with in every land mine is the back that bends the face that gets shoved in the earth i am told how costly it is to allow me to breathe i am not told how much your palaces (private or stately) depend on my breathing i must eat so that i may be eaten i must labour so that others may find space for their estates i am grasses told to lie down as lawn i am shrubs being clipped into hedges i am weeds being torn out of lines i am dirt being churned into mud i am mat that must always be shaken but choke me i must breathe crush me i must rise wipe me out i am everywhere whip me my blood runs into air destroy me i shall run out of doors my fingers root in the earth and shoot stars (2) loud hosannas (and a bowl of cherries) to the ordinary ordinary holds the world in a hat - it is a grey hat (grey - if you can but see it - is the brightest of colours) the world hates its grey sky endlessly moaning what a gloomy day how mediocre but ordinary holds the world it's about time someone gave loud hosannas (and a bowl of cherries) to the ordinary without it the sky loses its air fields give up grass meals do without salt bodies have no skin blood mourns its arteries language has no tongue at the foot of mountains there is no earth ordinary has been kicked in the teeth (and of course in the privates) every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year of existence and every second of every etc. ordinary sits up a grin bubbling through its spilled blood (and of course keeping its privates to itself) and simply says i am i am i am i am i am wham more blood and another grin etc ordinary is where it all started and where it is eternally - square one the universal square one or two claim to have reached square one and a half - they slip back but they eventually slip back their arses red with shame no man can put his foot down where there is no banana skin the ordinary runs down to the sea and without trying encompasses all views blends all colours and (in the end) copes quietly with death poets spend a lifetime in their songs hoping (not daring) to touch it it is wellwater the mountain spring the stream running throughout man bathing his wounds cooling his fevers it is the untransplantable heart it speaks all languages it eludes science it wracks art it is the lavatory the fool and the wise man share it discerns truly man if you are not ordinary you are a bloated nothing when you burst you spill your ordinary intestines and in no time your stink is assuaged by the stream
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