I'm a handyman; I've been up
guttering half the night.
I eyed up a couple of coupling nuts,
and tackled the loose flashing.
Give me a tingle, and I'll do
your roof. Beam in my eye, I'm
a handyman. My mother gave me
the cold feed, the insulation:
she filed me, pointed me nicely
with a bolster. I'm a handyman.
My ragged edges were trowelled
smooth, and always finished off
with a firm, stiff brush. I'm a
handyman, I've pumped capillaries
full of thick silicone, guaranteed.
I render myself: there were fractures
but I cracked them alone,
no assistance. I'm a handyman. Find
my pincers, itching to nibble;
my ladders have non-slip feet.
I strip, quickly. I'm a handyman.
Downstairs I'm distressing the furniture.
On soft nights you'll hear sobs
threading my broken flues.