This pain is an animal
That I have not tamed.

Its teeth will fall out
And sooner or later
I am bound to feel sorry for it.

‘You missed the fog’
He said,
‘Big Ben’s getting high’.

I miss you, I said.

Two goats
Push their heads
Through the gate –
Daintiness
Huffs in the mist.

Chickens march
Pausing to mourn over lumps.

Why don’t they straighten out
Those stones? I said.
I’ll do it myself.
One day I’ll come here
And I’ll do it my ******* self.

The goats race away,
Tripping into each other's backs -
Chasing a happiness
That comes for them every day.

There’s a spider on your cheek
To the right of a wrinkle.
Has it become a feature of your
Face -
Do people stare and sketch it?

What long days you keep.

I will turn my eyes on you tonight,
Because there is no romance to the burning dog
Dragged like a myth to the tune of a truck -
And no roses or violets
Will sweeten that path.

Get me my old school photograph
And I’ll point out every boy that
I ever kissed
Or even just dreamed of kissing.
Him?  Linguistic brilliance,
Chewed the skin either side
Of his fingernails, red
Raw they were.
And him? A map of acne
On his back, felt like
Braille,
And him? Such
Almond eyes,
Like milk allergies.
I take photos of every beautiful thing
I’ve ever seen.

The devil is in the details,
And God is in them too.

History repeats on us,
One life holding the gown
Of the next,
Waiting for its turn;
Just look at how the future greets us,
With a capful of
Utter unconcern.

I want to be of use to you,

But my memories
Are not admired by most –
They involve love and only love,
Or desire described as love
And floating
In the sky of a castle
with a hatful of flowers boasting ‘now’.

I’ve tickled it into his naked back,
When he’s ******* me it spools around my tongue,
I devote myself with every playful smack –
And harder still when certain smacks have stung.