Weds 21 Jan: Crianlarich to Tarbet

Poor lil' fella ...

Poor lil’ fella …

Carcasses sag on the roads as remains
Decayed to skeletal shapes, or riven
Asunder to display red-ripe swollen
Innards slowly seeping new asphalt stains.
They were not to know the laws that dictate
Momentum and inclement instances
And increases in braking distances:
And thus they came to face their fall and fate.
Ecce homo, me, just an animal
Rambling the roads in a frenzied flurry
To duck obese-laden lorries that pass
Suddenly with speed and without signal,
Saved by my lane-leap and verge-hop scurry.
What good is sapiens in a carcass?

The entire collection of poems from this project was published by Eyewear in 2016. Only a sample of the 78 poems remain accessible on this website.