PoetA. Shank

A. Shank was born with an ulterior motive. What that motive is no one quite knows. Inspired by the mundane trivialities of a day to day existence, usually found in the dole queue, the dark corner of the snooker hall or educating reprobates at a bus shelter. His favourite song is 'Believe' by Cher. He doesn't subscribe to any religion but has been known to sleep in churches.
If it wasn't for his brass hand he'd write all poetry righthanded but the left must suffice, rendering it smudged and incoherent.

I Work Out Every Thursday

Arms burn Brow sweats Here come the fucking baguettes TIN, TIN , TIN Up down Up down Trolley, chin Trolley, chin Muscles ache Aunt Bessies Bake Skins tight Heads light Vision blurred Have a word… A damaged soul In complete control Right arm...

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