Alfred and the wilderness  

Alfred, who with the greatest of ease tells, me he is not my father
and Olga, he had a brief affair with In Belgrade, is not my mother
we went for a walk across a green field.
Alfred who is a musician and never ventures out in the landscape
saw some grazing sheep and wondered if they were dangerous,
no, I said they are sheep and born friendly
as God created them, to this Alfred called me a crypto-Christian.
A little Lamb came up to my father, it was so sweet,
as only a lamb can be. he lifted it up which the ewe disliked,
and it butted him in the rear.
Alfred was shocked, got up and demanded I bring him to safety
in the nearest town; never trust animals they are all out
to get us he said while limping to safer ground.

Deserted by Alfred


It was not my fault I had no shoes
And the police stopped and asked and since it was none of their business
I naturally told them to *******.
was handcuffed and put in a police car, which was more cooling than
the asphalt, after all, it was October in Albufeira.
I thought this is a perfect movement when a father defends his son
but Alfred who refuses to be my father had gone home
I was left to explain this ridiculous case, but luckily the Portuguese
police force felt sorry for me and let me go.
Next day I bought a pair of sneakers in a Chinese shop and my father
who refuses to be my father was wearing my leather uppers?

Domestic crime

The couple was nicely suntanned, but the woman had
a black eye, he was very courteous to her, tried to hold
her hand, she didn’t want to, he reddened in anger.
Well-dressed, the couple were on a way to a restaurant
meeting friends, no doubt a droll story would be told
how she got a black eye.
The men would believe the story, women exchange
because in the hapless woman's eyes they saw the truth.
They would find out-women talk- when at the ladies
powdering the noses.
The unlucky one would beg them not to say a word
he loves me but has a bad temper when I nag him
he slaps me; it is my fault for not understanding him.
He was very sorry for giving me a black eye, he cried
promised me not to hit me anymore.

Love is a spring day.

In a parking lot, two plastic bags danced
in the spring breeze elegantly circled each other
came near almost, touched but danced away
only to dance close again and shyly kissed
A paper napkin with smeared lipstick
wanted to join in, but the dancers only had
eyes for one another.
shamed the napkin, took refuge under a car  
that drove off, no place to hide.
It danced alone in slow motion; eyes closed
as it was dreaming, the lipstick smiled.
A gust of wind blew the napkin to the sky
away from the parking lot, to a secret place
only exploited paper napkins know of.

Autumn light

Softly they walk on a day in October
The old man and sunlight among olive trees
Planted when his grandfather was young.

On the track hove marks from sheep
That walk here daily on the way home
After grazing upland.

Bits of fleece on thorny bushes
Black pellets and the pungent aroma
Of the woolly-backed still lingers.

He sees the old cottage, warped roof
And bushes grow through the floor
He doesn’t stop; it was all so long ago.

Light is fading time, to leave for him
Autumn evening evenings can be chilly
Not so good for his chest.

Epiphany

It was an incredible summer in 1950 the war was over things were getting
back to normal, mother's new boyfriend who worked at a factory had
a rowboat and paid holiday leave. A Sunday early we rowed to a small island
in the bay, mother had brought a blanket, sandwiches in brown paper bags
mostly jam I think and two bottles of soft drink, water and cold milk that soon
was off, and a thermos flask of coffee. The boyfriend gave me a line with
a hook on told me to go fishing- telling me what to do is not easy not even for me-
in the shallow water near the pier as bait, I found a worm under a stone thread
the living thing on the fishhook.
the water was crystal clear had tiny fishes that looked like rainbows swimming
about I saw the sky I was in a trance thought I was what I saw took a step
forward and landed in the water people came running helping me up back I was
in real-time mother came running to shout at me as mothers do and worried
about my delicate health. Rowing back into town again the boyfriend was grumpy
and suggested I had fallen into the water to get the attention I said little in my defence
how could I explain for a moment I had understood everything, but on the other hand, he could have been right, how is a boy supposed to know

The vale of the rich

A strange place houses as big as castles tall forbidding walls
on top of broken glass in cement: gates that can withstand
armoured tanks.
Lush dale but no humming bees or bird song too much pesticide
for the sake of beauty, what’s left is graveyard peace.
I sat on my bike for an hour in the hope of seeing people, but no.
Each palace was like an islet cut off from the world outside,
here they need no one and no one needs them, splendid isolation
Like an asylum of the weary madness.
Just as I was to leave a hearse pulled up an iron gate, the gate
opened and let, well even rich people must die, prisoners of wealth.
I ought to take some of them outside, so they see a bit of real-life
before a hearse arrives.