The Strut by Gareth Culshaw

He pushed the pram with his shoulders
baseball cap sat on his head
phone in pocket, notes rolled up.

He wore designer logos and kept
his eyes on people. A frown hid a smile.
The nose was a mouse on a Saturday

night. Searching for the white horse
as it waited to run through his mind,
creating a false body to strut and scowl.

I watched him push his shortcoming.
He walked like a man with a coat hanger
in his t-shirt. Nodding to heads and spitting

out his anger. Ready to throw away the weight
of what was before him.

Gareth Culshaw
Gareth lives in Wales. He has his first collection out in 2018 by futurecycle.

 

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