The Tickly Monster's coming
To tickle you off to bed
He'll tickle you on your tummy
He'll tickle you on your head
He'll tickle you on your tosies
He'll tickle you on your thumb
And when his tickling's finished
He'll say that its just begun

I went back.
   A week later,
everything foreign,
                                 off
the map.

Rain.

   I bought
a strawberry milkshake,
your favourite
from that cafe
we had breakfast in one time,
and you told me
   your middle name
with a mouthful of croissant.
   I still don't know what it is.
It didn't taste as good
and the price had gone up.

   Carousel was closed,
found a bench,
must've slept.
   Woke up soaked,
clothes clinging to me
like Velcro,
dog taking a leak,
watch said midday.
     Went walking.

More rain.

It took your footprints,
snatched them     away.
I couldn't find our castle,
that too had succumbed,
crumbled to pieces
like you     and     me
and     you.

   I can still smell the sea
   on your shoulder-blades,
in your hair,
on the gap
between your   nose
and your   lip.
   Didn't like being tickled
but I did it anyway...
you still laughed
and made black days
wildly red.

   A memory,
memories
trickling as bathwater
down a plughole.
   We ate raspberries,
     threw   rocks,
danced about like   rag-dolls
to songs we'd just made up.
I called you Ringo,
you called me John.

   Now the waves,
***** diamonds
scare me as soon
as they skedaddle
over   my   toes.
   You are not lost,
and yet
I cannot find     you.

Rain.

In the palm of your hand-
I feel that I’m only in the palm of your hand
and that I fit there, so tiny,
like a fairy, curled up
inside of a tulip
and safe and content
to sleep,
softly
and
serenely
and
lovely,
with tiny shoes
that always fit.

But, oh, it’s just not fair,
that I can do no more than spin tales and enchant
and there is nothing I can do
there is nothing  to do
looking up from below
that will keep you safe
from you,
for you,
around you.
I’m
sorry.
I’m nothing more
than a tickle at your ear.

Tickle my fancy come play with me
Hug me squeeze me come sit on my knee
Make me tingle lets have a fling
Stir my emotions, make me Zing

Kiss my neck and whisper softly
The things you want, to do with me
Take me to Rome
Wine and dine me
And then take me home

Wrap me in lace and Broderie Anglaise
Bath me in milk and polyurethane foam
Fly me to Rio lets dance in the streets
Make love to me Beneath silken black sheets

Tell me you love me in French and Italian
Call me a Puppy-dog and then a white stallion
So tickle me baby lets have a fling

She met him in high school
there was a motorcycle
her pink shirt
Thirty
some-odd years
He has a divorce and a half
She has a tumor and a laugh
indicative of decline.
Three kids on the line
What's the price of a tickle to his parts?
Five hearts.

Tickle torture,
Pillow fight,
Midnight scorcher,
Summer night.

Lighting bugs,
Croaking frogs,
Loving hugs,
Burning logs.

Scary stories,
Nervous laughter,
Starry glories,
Shortly after.

Heaven's floor,
Billion lights,
Living for,
Summer nights.