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close to the edge.

we might never get out
of this paddling pool alive;
people can drown
in an inch of water, you know,
and that madman in the next carriage
with the invisible knife
he’s a liability, he is,
a bloody menace.
I mean - you can choke
on your own saliva, I once read,
& if you like a drop or two, well,
you’re signing your own
death certificate really
- might just as well cut your throat right now
and have done with it -
better than a heart attack
or a stroke – and quicker.
In fact, I wouldn’t get out of that bed if I were you
not unless you smell smoke, maybe,
or, worse still, burning rubber,
cos that’s a brain tumour, that is,
often as not.