He may love himself
But every man has
A weakness,
He loves his face too much
And a broken body
Is not a good one
For modelling
Cashmere scarves
And playing
Waterpolo.
This will be
Your downfall Adam
One day,
A guy’s gonna
Land you one
Right on the chin.
It’ll be like
A Magnum Colt going off
It’ll send you reeling
And even death will wince
Before taking you.

Some days I just
Lay there,
2am – staring at the
Ceiling
Home alone when
I walk through my
Front door,
Thinking:
Take me. Take me now.
I can’t be this strong anymore.
I’ve been the travelling man
I’ve wandered through this hell,
Parched of love
Full of loneliness
Broken hearted
Defeated
Beaten to a pulp.
I’ve soldiered on this far
But now
The vultures can have me.
Then I sleep
And somehow I wake to the
Onslaught again.

To John – who always told me, ‘I’m fine, it’s the rest of them’

You know that
You’re kissing life’s ***
When a girl chooses
A weedy
Airheaded
Pompous
Obnoxious
Nothing
Over you.
You, with a big heart.
A warm touch
A sense of humour
A sense of love
And not just carnal desire.
That, no man can do without
She will not love you
Nuh-huh, no way.
And you’re thinking,
Jesus:
It’s either something he’s got that I haven’t
Or indeed  that
They’re lacking something I’m not.

I told her, I did
Megan, I said
I’m not taking the load
Not anymore.
You come to me when you
Want help with words
But you won’t give me
Your tongue
Or even, as a deposit,
Your word:
Yes.
So I’m saying no,
******* you *******;
And she is gone.
I do feel bad – a bit.
But what can you do?
Bottle it up,
The bottle begins to crack.
Do what you can
Because you can’t come back
That was the straw that
Broke the donkey’s back.

If I hear the words
‘I didn’t lead you on,’
One more time
I’m.going.to.scream.
How long before
You realise
Love doesn’t work
Like that?
You’re off chasing
A dreamer
And to me, you’re
Just a dream.
It’s either one of two things:
Either it’s love between us
Or we’ll go bust
It should be heavenly appealing
These show be the best
Years of our lives
Love should have us
Swinging from the ceiling

Haters
They are everywhere
They are like a contagion
Infecting everything in their path:
And that is the worst of it.
It’s not the death of morality
But the slow dying
The crumbling of it.
This is what the human condition has become:
Good people
Eroded
Worn down
By **** boring people
Boring people populating the Earth.
It’s a two faced monster
Vain
Drunk
Horrible to look at
Feasting on good looking girls
And boys
But there will come a time
When even Death will wince
At the old hags
Before taking them.

A Sophie Hesme

She won’t do this forever
Famous last words
It has to be up there with Napoleon
And Nelson
‘Drink, drink, fan, fan, rub, rub’
Hardy never got
Kissed
Which is a similar feeling
I get, sat across from Josy
In poetry class.
I chew the end of my pencil
As I get bombarded with shrapnel
I’m hit! I’m hit!
But she won’t do this forever
Hopefully I don’t bleed to death
Before I get reconciled.