Life is a Labyrinth (We like to think) It’s really a maze A euphemism for mistakes Not having an English parliament Fancy ruling a kingdom for a thousand years out of boredom Instead of doing what you love Life is not an autobiography Saying you’re dead doesn’t prove you’re alive After the Forth Bridge, go and paint another Halving your next step is like standing still Don’t make a deal with a crocodile An arrow is only still if you look Leap over the horns of a bull You’ll end up in a grave anyway Wearing a scuba mask in the city park grass made me think everything was bigger than it really was the old man’s tache like the Lorax Truffulas doubling as wind turbines the starling a buzzard circling lions, a lynxed-up tabby, a leopard even chasing away giant beagles & the sun clearly heading for earth. Making my escape in a Hummer Mini the Grim Reaper popped up in the rear-view mirror looking much closer than he maybe is. Unlock-up A house-bound cat Over-fed, under-slept A lion caged Eats out too soon Mayhem helped The few Got away Red-handed The many Empty gravesides Claps & tea Here is a castle I can’t unlock up Every dungeon A cornered rat The fear of breath A ham-faced man In sadness sneezes Spits on a grid Our ceiling drips
Simon Maddrell was born in the Isle of Man. After 20 years in London, he moved to Brighton in 2020.
Simon writes as a queer Manx man, thriving with HIV.
In 2020, Simon’s debut chapbook, Throatbone, was published by UnCollected Press and Queerfella jointly-won the The Rialto Open Pamphlet Competition.
Facebook/Instagram/SoundCloud: @simonmaddrell Twitter: @QueerManxPoet