In America I sing
The Sicknote and think
of my little brother.
I think of him bunking off
school, whinging of a sore pinky.
I think about how the school nurse
knew his gelled cowlick was coming
before he walked through her door.
I think of his binary heartbeats,
his childhood asthmatic gasps,
his cracked ribs and empty casts,
his unfastened appendix,
his incisor split asunder,
his forever pulled hamstring,
all the cuts, aches and pains
that hurlers have bestowed on him.
The song’s fine for a laugh,
but the yanks don’t know
the Sicknote is real and, by
some stroke of luck, still alive.