:

He’s propped by three pillows
in a bed by the widow, talks to his toes
who’ve been deaf since his back

came off worst in an argument
with a car that didn’t stop for tea
at Joe’s café where a passer by

phoned for an ambulance.
He watches geese fly through fug
that blasts from chimney pots

hopes they’ll not get sucked into
the turbines of a Bowen which he hears
but doesn’t see: same old story.