On Trying

I'm scared of the love -- 

of the unknown, swirling deep -- 

I think I might feel

Joshua Seigal 

the answer

Enough

This place isn’t perfect

but it is enough.

The garden is tiny and overgrown

but nearby there is a big park.

You can hear children playing

when you’re sitting in the back bedroom.

It isn’t perfect but it is enough.

The staircase is long and narrow

but it stops the cat escaping into the street.

Look at her there, soundly asleep

in her little cardboard box.

For her, it’s enough.

Not perfect, perhaps,

but enough.

Joshua Seigal

Bucket

I wear a bucket on my head.

I’ve done it all my life,

and no one’s ever glimpsed my mug – 

not kids, nor friends, nor wife. 

I keep that bucket on my bonce

and never take it off. 

When meeting new acquaintances

it’s something I don’t doff. 

Removal of the artefact

would be to no avail. 

And so it simply must be said

my face looks rather pail.

Joshua Seigal

Infectious

I sniff and splutter all the time

and film it on my phone.

The people flock to see me cough

and watch me writhe and moan.

My arms and legs get achey

while I put it all online. 

My following keeps growing

as I shiver, shake and whine. 

My temperature’s as high

as all my likes on Instagram.

An influenza influencer – 

that is what I am.

Joshua Seigal 

The man who is desperate for a son

is a man. The man who is desperate for a son

is so much a man that he wants to fill the world

with more man. In replicating himself, he

wants to increase the amount of man. He is a man

and he wants more. He himself is not sufficient – 

man begets man begets man. A daughter is OK but

it isn’t a man, and the man who is desperate for a son

is a man. A man who wants another man. Who needs

another man. One man isn’t enough, and the man 

who is desperate for a son is only one man. He 

is only one man, and he can’t bear to be alone.

Joshua Seigal