Sunday, 13 January 2013


I am the one in one hundred;
eating a full english breakfast in Brian’s Deli,
making hangers rattle on the rails in Oxfam,
expelling swift vapour feeling the texture of
a bridge’s November parapet, puzzling myself
each time my brain deploys a symptom without
my consent, easily finding bigots and fools
with whom to pick a righteous fight, or educate
to put their mis-conceptions right.
I am happy to be the one.

Note: At the time of writing, one in every hundred people worldwide have epilepsy


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