Some summer night


The summer night is hot you can see the flames of hell,
acrid smoke and soot through the open window.
In the interior of the house, a primal scream
two wriggling bodies try to produce an offspring who
will grow up and be like them and die like them?
But not before it has tasted love, a seed of humanity.
Then sinking back underground, spent, forgotten
in the mass-grave of boredom
decorated with flowers that radiate deaths to come.
The Tasmanian tiger howls to the moon and forever
vanishes into an ancient forest,
While werewolves’ sways to a Mexican dirge

Nature is acceptance

Three hatchlings in a nest high up a tree,
It was time to fly the mother had stopped feeding them.
So small the wings, so far to the next tree,
The first one tried and made it looked embolden,
the next one to try landed on the ground but was able
to find a branch of a tree.
The third one was not made the heroic stuff, it hesitated
too long and when it did it ended up a vat of water
meant for the sheep, where it drowned.
Forgotten by mother and siblings it was only sentimental
humans who felt the sadness of the scene.

Loneliness

I have always been a bit of a loner
it is a part of me I cannot eradicate.
I have had few close friends as friendship is an itch
that is demanding in its clawness
My loneliness is a part of me I try to escape
but also embrace as it sets me free.
I became accustomed to living alone when I stayed on a farm
with only animals as imagined friends.
There were no other children to talk and play
Sometimes loneliness can be a burden walking alone
turnaround and say, look at this view!
When I write- I do not call myself a poet-
It is as I connect with unseen friends and the act of writing
feels like I belong to the world.

The Land of dream

Early Tuesday morning when the night
Glides into a new beginning somewhat reluctantly
And no police sirens have been cutting the night
Till before and after sleep.
I will like to go to India. the vivaciousness of
The humanity intrigues me, the struggle to makes a living
Warms my heart, the poverty is holy
The cattle in the streets holier than the statue
Of the man who gave his life for freedom which so easily
Can be lost again when one religion is preferred
From another, they make one set of people arrogant
The other set hateful.
I will be in India tomorrow.

Seen from the Terrace

The misty weather over Cascais persists
there is no wind and silky rain falls.
Three old freighters must be 34-40 years old,
anchored in the smooth water in the bay.
There is a third wave lurking in the streets
we, the old sit indoors except when going to
the bank to pay bills or to the grocery shop,
that is open during the day.
I notice the ships are Panama registered
old ships usually are, cheap wages and standard,
Sometimes the old ships are abandoned
by the owners, the crew left both penniless
and hungry.
The last journey will be in a town in
the Bay of Bengal, and slowly turned Into nails and
other undignified objects.

Personified evil


I feel repulsed when he is near; I ought to have compassion
for this *******, his twisted foot and arm
a beggar with scabby skin and eyes as black as looking into
the dark side of the moon.
This is not a person you can be nice to the more you give
the more he hates you and wishes you an early death.
His diversion is to follow funeral processions but no into
the cemetery, no one wants him there.
Why do I hate this person must be a background for me?
Childhood, when I lived in fear of the undead.
After the war in Norway, there was hunger in the land
but I noticed at the gymnasium the children
of the middle classes, who went to be the new suits
a concrete box for trash, unopened parcels of food.
I had to be quick in case the rats took it.
A rat jumped up and tried to catch the food eyes shone
of hatred hated me for being human.
Like the ******* who dislikes humanity, who he blames
for his perpetual hardship.
This ***** little person was hated by his mother denying
she gave birth to this satanic being
I hate and fear him too, four black horses, where he is
the only mourner.

The Phantom of Genoa

Along the docks of Genoa, a man with bent shoulder walks
he is thin and pale like he hides under his winter coat
it can be very cold in Genoa, for him the winter is everlasting.
Few people recognize him, those who do to avoid him
of this huddled figure of cowardice; they see in him themselves
the humiliation of weakness buried deep within their soul.
Once he had been a popular captain on a cruise liner, he
failed, shamed by his nation and worst of all himself.
“Vada a Bordo Cazzo.” Rings in his ears.
Shouted in his whenever he appears in public.
Unforgiven he walks the street night street; he is our ghost.

Supermarket blue

  After a splendid lunch of goat chops
With salad, my mood was dreamingly contented
To she got the idea of going to a big supermarket
Except for vegetable, fruit, meat and fish
I trapesed miles after miles in this insanity
Of ****** food, sugary food and horrendous
soft drinks laden with sugar,
Also, the juice that said zero had a sign telling
Me that sugar had been added.
Went outside no bench provided nor inside
You are not supposed to sit down, but shop!

At the hospital (nurses and doctors)

Been to see the diabetes doctor
first, we had to see the nurse who did the physical aspect.
The nurse said I had lost 2 kilos
which was pleasing to hear; the last time I met her, she looked
worse for wear coming up to the surface of a night depravity
and her uniform looked crumbled.
Doctors, nowadays, consult their computers to see
how you feel tapping away, like a secretary.
My doctor, a small, slim woman, had been to the beach
she had lovely fingers; she wore pumps I didn’t think much of
but her ankles were elegant as her fingers.
Finally, she gave me some new tablets I will probably not use
I noticed she had a copy pen on the desk, given to her
by a medical supplier, not that I mind… My God, those pumps!

Sea-Gull-chicken

The two baby gulls II have been watching
Have grown rapidly in the last few days
Today they are out flapping their wings
Not quite daring to fly.
Over the circle the mother gull. shrieks
A warning, but it could also have said, fly
You little ******* I will not feed you more.
They hang about on the roof the world is
Such a big place.
Tottering back to their nest behind
The chimney, perhaps tomorrow, I like
To be there when they fly.

The schooner

On the flatland between the vales, I could see the sea
I had walked uphill for a long time, after the downhill
and the way to the coast, it was easy, but it was
getting cold, I wore a light navy uniform (Furlough)
I saw a protest house of worship on its own no other
Houses nearby this place would do.
I fell asleep, awoke and heard ***** music, the church
full of matelotes singing psalms; the paster spoke
of redemption and the glory of God.
I saw a superb sunrise continued my walk to the coast.
In the morning an open café, I told the girl behind the
counter, where I had slept, she looked confused as far
as she knew the church had been torn down, it was
built of planks when of a schooner ran aground with
the loss of all hands.

The forest dog

A dog lived in the forest
I think it was a she
It avoided conteact with people
The forest was full of rabbits.
I sat on a stone in the glade
For a long time it ignored me,
But one deay it came near
I fed him a sandwich, later on
It let me pick ticks of its fur
Before backing into the bushes.
On my walks, I often sat on the stone
Sometimes the dog came and sat
Beside me for a while.
When the hunters came it disappeared
And stayed away for weeks.
One day I found the dog near the stone
In the glade, it had been killed.
Humanity is an ugly beast slay for
Pleasure and not for food

Family drama

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A couple, in their late fifties, is coming out of the supermarket,

he sits in a wheelchair, she is pushing him along.

He is grumpy swears at her perhaps she had spent too much

money on groceries

She loses her temper parks him on the pavement and drive off

While he sits there smoking a cigarette.

Five minutes later she returns helps him into the car, fold

the wheelchair drives off.

On his lips a smile quivers, triumph or love?

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Le marriage est plein

De grandes esperances

Irrealisee.

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The forenoon Show
There is a ship anchored close to the shore
in the bay, I wonder what the cook is doing now
perhaps he is chopping onions for frying
with a bit of meat from lunch or maybe he is
                      washing pots and pans while the officers who have
nothing to do play cards in the mess hall.
The crew stand by the railing looking at the shore
and the bright light, eyeing at their watches
when is the cook ready to serve them some grub?
I turn my thought to Julia apparently she was not
funny enough, a day time hostess has to be relentlessly
hilarious, facile, pretty and dumb.
I wonder how long she will last before a burnout
there many young females dying to get the job.
Exposure, the name in coloured magazines, the interview
by a sycophantic journalist who let the object prattle one
about their childhood which was hard, interfered with
by an uncle, endless is the navel-gazing, but the question
how they got there so fast is not mentioned whatever it was
it has little to do with talent.

Rolf, the talking machine

There are moments in life when you meet someone
you take an instant dislike to who endlessly talk about
things they don't know if you tell them something
they don't hear what you say, just waiting for their
a chance to rambles on.
He has the sort of face exuding stupidity and is inviting
you to punch him flat and jump on him.
You know what I mean a person who speaks without
thinking what is coming out of his mouth, unstoppable he his
I think he talks in his sleep.
Tomorrow he will be leaving, and I will not be charged
of ******.

How old is old?
Was it a mistake or am I the clown in a serial TV drama,
an actor not needed for the plot but is kept on out habit,
poor sod can't remember his lines sitting with his pint in the corner.
One day he will be gone, and other actors will talk
about his kindness, The Guardian may show clips
when he had a leading role in a play 40 years ago.
So how long is a lifetime? I don't know, will not
know, but I would mind a by-line or two

From Dust

Life is dust
Without it, we will not exist
Ask my cleaner.
No, don't ask her
She is paid to remove it
A dusty book on the shelf
Are words waiting to be read
It has waited so long it's
the author is gone, dust, but still has something
he wanted to say
before he is as forgotten as the rainforest
59 million years ago.

The Psychiatric Patient

Driving home from the shops I do not walk around anymore
I noticed despite the winter is holding us like victimized Palestinians,
a thaw, the flowers and **** by the wayside looked more *****
like they were ready to let their ****** hood go - ok I know about
the ****** bees, my friend the eminent poet, is deeply concerned.
Clive, used to be a psychiatric nurse and always strive to be normal
lest you think he had had been a patient.
The beginning of spring is here new life is coming so despite Trump
the man, who escaped the asylum, we will prevail.

A new society

Is Brexit more than Brexit
a dream of going back in time
when everything had a human dimension?
To physically eradicate the royalty
to take back thousands of acres stolen
by the aristocracy.
Leaving the cities as a bird sanctuary
go back to the land, a homestead with
a cow and a few chickens.
Living a sub-existence hunting boars
in the evening light; rivers teeming with fish.
Small shops selling the basic foodstuff
and a cobbler to repair shoes.
Poverty and freedom in the land of the proud
and begin the new dawn of equality.

Cold winter

It was the coldest winter anyone had experienced.
Birds fell from the sky frozen and oven ready.
He opened all windows let the coal- fire roar, birds
came sat on his roof; so many birds the roof collapsed
the coal fire overheated, the iron melted
the house burnt down; his wife demanded a divorce.
He said to his solicitor: you do your best to save the planet,
its fauna and this are what you get!
He had taken sacks of coal at the depot for this bagatelle.
he was fired and reported, two years prison, which
when you think about it a bit harsh after all he had tried
to save the birds at a time when homeless people froze to death

Diabetic hand-book

If you forgot why you are in the kitchen it is  
probably because cause your wife has hided
the nectar.
Wives are no good in letting you remember.
*** over eighty is cumbersome and clumsy
avoid it at all cost.
If you can´t remember yesterdays’ lunch
the likelihood is it was boring.
If you can´t remember your cat´s name do not worry
it doesn´t know either.
If your diabetic feet restrict your walking. try a treadmill
when you see a blank wall remind yourself
that you were bored too when young.
Swimming can be good but preferable in a child´s pool.
The point of all these exercises is to live longer
but you will only live as long as nature intended,

The Stylishness

Coming back he felt like a man sitting
on a train going home from seeing the blue angel.
Besides a person who was on secondment
from the army so often he was a now a colonel and
knew the railway system in Germany.
He had been on a ****** for days and, the room
where he woke up was dingy and needed, and all he needed was a cold bottle
of beer not for him but his shakes.
His thoughts of beer were interrupted by a knock
on the door, it was the army officer on secondment
saying goodbye he was off on another train
had been promoted as well to a higher rank,
I congratulated him saw him disappearing down the hall.
Discipline! That's what is needed, with that he got
up had a shower, walked out with nonchalance. Which
wasn't tricky at a downtrodden hotel.

Home invasion

IKEA, the Swedish furniture giant
Is invading your home
Wherever you go homes look the same
all in pine and is a blend of office
and living room
A mother has put her daughter to bed
she sits by a computer and works
(No men in the IKEA world)
No books clutter the space, bookshelves
are for ornamental use a place for toys.
on the wall some friendly print
purposely abstract and tedious
There is no individual taste in a picture
of hygge, a unipolar world, will we drive
a Tesla next?

Adam & Eve

If a koala bear had been sitting in the apple tree
and Eve had asked Adam to move the animal
to the appropriate tree so it could feed and sleep
there would be no need for religion and snakes
would have no poison.

It was Eve when she had her period, which got
the idea to cover her distress with a palm leaf,
Adam liked the design and the garment industry
was born, but it was Eve who wore and made
the first hat to protect her hair from the sun.

The freak of nature

There is a tiny islet in the foggy Saragossa Sea
it has no name since no self-respecting explores
would put his name on it.
However, it had a Vulcan that erupted and when
the lava stream cooled seagulls found it a good
a place to nest.
Something strange happened some of the eggs
grew huge and when hatched had a wingspan
of 3metres and they were not of a friendly
disposition.
Glutinous they attacked goats and bigger prey  
and lone fishermen in their rowing boats it was
So you could not go to sea getting supper with
Carrying a shotgun.
It so happened the birds were infertile a freak
of nature but as birds they are long-lived if you
see them on a clear day you better keep your eyes
to the sky.

The murderous Garden
  My childhood's garden looked wonderful
this early summer, full of flowers trees and bushes
barefoot I walked into this wonder.
Then something happened the grass grew taller, tall as me;
they blocked my view tried to
Tie up my feet and pushed me towards a thorny bush.
I tried to run that was impossible, but somehow
and slowly got out of the wilderness while stalked
by a Bengali tiger.
Mother opened a window told me it was dinner
I had to hurry up; she didn't have all day.
Finally, I reached the door, safety, looked back
the garden stood there looking innocent, but I knew better
and never played there anymore

In the eye of the beholder

To navigate between truth and lies skill is needed
I read in the Guardian, famous as a paper speaking the truth
but somehow, in the current debacle sounds like
polite propaganda.
There is a site called GAB, rather right-winged; I think
whose news is a corrector, of what is said in
the big papers.
Who speaks the truth?
It is like navigated in shallow waters of sandbanks
and in thick fog, all voices want to be heard.
What to do, we take the information to slosh it about
lies sink to the bottom, the truth is a bit obscured
Floats to the surface; depending on the experience
you had of life, make a choice.
Which invariable leads me to the left of the stream
In the river of words, when all is said a good place.

The modest businessman

There was a man who opened up an elegant shop
selling beautiful Italian shoes but few people came.
Why don't people come to my shop,
Did he ask?
You have to advertise your shop in the papers or
print leaflets and hand them around,
What about words of mouth, he asked?
That will only reach your family, they can't go on
buying shoes especially since they prefer clogs.
Crushed that people didn't want to buy his shoes
he fell into a deep depression when the bank foreclosed
he hanged himself, and I’ve been wondering
who took over his collection of excellent Italian shoes?

Wood Talk

The wood delivery man came this warm sunny afternoon
the man wanted cash dislikes checks, I don’t blame
him for that.
Why should he pay tax when the likes of Starbuck pays
nothing much.
I usually drink coffee at the local café, tried Starbuck once
coffee with milk was not enough kept talking about
“latte” no, just coffee, nothing else.
A friend of mine who has gone to school came over and
sorted things out; didn’t care much for the coffee
I don’t think the woodman drink coffee, a faint smell of wine
about him.
It was after lunch, the police officers, leave us alone here
In the deep dark valley.

French “The Language of love”

Darling, speak French when we make love
wicked words I don´t understand but has a whispering meaning of delight.
I stand before you with salutial *******, a soldier of love
ready to sacrifice myself in your subterranean pleasure.
Your wishes have to be expressed in French, or the steed will not react
with proper force thinks it is time to return to the stable
On the subway in Paris, I got in the way of a woman who wanted to exit
she swore at me, thinking she said words of love, I kissed her and was arrested.
But soon released when they understood I was a foreigner
lost in the ways of the Gallic idiom.

High Tech
In the Silicon Valley the sit the tsars of high tech
producing stuff, you didn't know you needed
They know the Armageddon is coming but try
not to stop it, as it will obstruct their profit.
When the world resources are depleted and
nuclear war beckons, they are too busy to find
a secure place to survive the upcoming wars.
With all their intelligence combined, they see
not the indefinite human mind, their survival
will be a vast nothingness

Haiku

Wretchedness is to
Watch You Tube three in the morn
Watching a dog show

A dreaming journeys
  
  A leaf floats down a river
It never made a decision
“where are you going doc?
Back to the future?
No, I have been there now
We are going to the future.
From afar the leaf hear
a woman sings
“Let me call you, darling.”
What an idiot I’ve been.
What’s left is the ocean.

Tomorrow is the near future.

I live near a stream that has been running dry for years
there used to be a winter lake too, now drained
as a landing pad for military helicopters
trees around get dusty like tired soldiers on the western front.
There is edginess in Europa, many years of peace the monster,
that lurks in mankind awakes.
We think we know the enemy, as usual, we are wrong
when listening to the voice of antagonism.
A new page of history written we don’t know which
side to choose, when millions of people killed
and the last bomb dropped, then it doesn’t matter which
sides we choose.
Poets will write for peace; few will listen to their warnings.
The new peace can last, but only so long, because the human mind
is bent on war; this is our tragedy the voice for peace is a child cry
in the symphony of the battlefield.

High living


High living what does it mean?
Eating caviar or to live on the highest
Flat on a Grenfell tower in London
without a sprinkling system?
Having lunch at an expensive café
because it has a famous chef or
drinking tea from China instead
of drinking it from a cracked mug?
I call it costly living.
Moving around finding a distraction
because after money life is boring.

Follow the rules

The old man sat in his high walled garden
he had been a traitor to his country not
a stern quisling but enough to be shunned
by the people of this town who had hailed
him a  great writer.
His exile was self- enacted he still believed
he was correct his right winged policies
essential for his countries future, but he had
no one’s ear, so he wrote about the seasons
his garden was big and fauns danced
at twilight.
He heard the radio Europe was changing
people were tired of predictable democracy
liberalism, vapid as morning mist, leaders
were far removed from the people, freedom
had become borderless  tyranny a **** that
could not stop the flood of hatred of those
who were made to follow the rules?
Perhaps his time had come the people would
listen to him now.

The Russians are coming

Skiers complain it is too cold, most of them are from the cold country
is the frost in China different than say, Scandinavia?
A newspaper gleefully telling us there fewer spectators this time
then in the Olympic last time, I think this tittle-tattle has to do with
infantile reports looking to throw some **** China’s way.
The war that didn’t happen and are not going to cover the front
pages of Europe, one senses they are willing a war against Russia.
Crimea was not annexed by Russia, there was a vote in favour
of being a part of that country, which is natural since most people
living in Crimea are Russians; this is a no brainer.
I so do dislike I. Phones; bills are sent to the phone nothing on paper
my phone is blocked because I let the battery run flat
Now they ask for my code to open the ****** phone who in
their does right mind remember a code?
Meanwhile, the sporting people continue to chase gold in Pequin.

If not burned

Hellas is burning the Athens is surrounded by invading fires
no modern weaponry can stop this brutal onslaught.
Greece is far from here, where the Atlantic breeze is cooling
it doesn’t concern us, should it?
Further afield, people have too much water the drown and
become refugees trying to find a safe place.
Are there any safe places left?
Those who think their country is secure will not share
it with the driftwood coming to their shores.
California is burning villas made of timber are matchboxes
for the rich to feels the heat, but does it make them kinder.
Of course, it has nothing to do with us, we who live in a place
where the breeze from the north Atlantic is cooling.
In this time of life, the pandemic is just the beginning
of a total breakdown of the world we knew, the day may
Come when Afghanistan is a relatively safe place to go
as it has no flooding to speak of but has plenty of drugs
to pass the time while waiting for a fire to reach us.

Identity

    What does it mean to be human?
   What is identity a word used to classify ourselves,
   Setting us apart from other animals, and why
   Have we been given intelligence to destroy?
   The planet, and consciousness to do good when
  The instinct is to terminate what is a bother
  To our wellbeing.
  Is a multi-ethnic approach useful for the identity?
  We tend to gravitate towards the tribe we know
  With people, we feel a kinship.
  Is religion good for us?
  but we invented it together
  With the massacre of those who do not believe like us.
What is morality, not ****** morality which is
An instinct procreates but often sinks to bare lust.
A dog knows it is not human but does it know
Is it a dog, do we know we are humans?

The boxer and the actor

I saw them on the sidewalk near The Radio music Hall
in New York, Jack was telling Alan a joke
Jack Dempsey wore a sport’s jacket, brown trousers
a white shirt’s open, top button open
shiny shoes; Alan Ladd, wore a grey suit, with matching
tie (Everyone had shiny shoe trainers not yet invented)
I noticed he was considerably smaller than Jack.
I was in awe had never seen someone famous
life and up close; this was, in 1957, I was so young.
I bought a ticket to see the show at the music hall
before the movie dancing girl came to the stage
with live music and plenty of thighs.
The final was a big kick a woman got it wrong
she kicked with her left leg when she realized her mistake
shifted to the right leg; too late, the music had stopped
but with one leg still in the air, it was what I remember.

Egypt Galore
I was in Alexandra once
It was unpleasant
People stopped me asked
For cigarettes.
They were standing to close
Crowding me.
Asked if I was a Christian
Sniggered.
I found a bar that sold beer
But from every window
They, the rabble
Was watching me
Making unkind comments.
When the crowed thinned out
I left
Some of them asking me about
Swedish women, they lusted for
*** with willing women with short skirts.
I was followed by their foul breath
Until I reached the gate
Of the docks.
I was frisked by the guards
they stole my money and
cigarettes.

Doomed is the river

Twenty years ago, the river ran 2 meters deep
had trout we caught with a net and fried over
a small fire with delicious fresh food.
Every year I have seen the river getting smaller
even in the winter rain.
Years ago, three children were caught by a wall
of water, their father was arrested, they said
he had fed the children to his pigs but not
a single button was found in the pigs, enclosure
The broken father was set free, and every
summer I see walking along the river’s banks
hope to find his children’s bones, there is none.

A horse blanket
Is better than
A sheet of silk
When feeling cold.
I pondered this
And came to the conclusion
It was self-evident
Dismissed
My words of wisdom.

To travel light

I wish some shoes regulated
Themselves a and a suit always clean
(a film was made) also, underwear that
Didn’t need to be changed
How easy it will have been to travel.
A tiny holdall for shaving cream blades
Moreover, a toothbrush; come to think of it
No need to shave when travelling and
The toothbrush could be stuck in the suits
Breast pocket, hands-free taking pictures
Of wild elephants or polar bears.
Free to have your belonging riffled through
By a uniformed officer.
Travel in a plane have my polluted name
Written in the sky, drink a whisky-on the rocks
Also, trying to relax, aware your wife is
Travelling with five big suitcases.

Lovers End

Love is doomed to an early death, forever tinged
with sadness; even ardent lovers sense it can't last.
Ah, the mythical illusion no one in the world loved
so deeply as us. Entwined, yes so heavenly I was your
body and your body was me. Sensuous we smiled
I saw my image in your face drown in the miasma of love.
The cooling of ardour was not for us, but we could
not stop time. Grey sky, why must delight die?
The ship has left the anchorage and the sea is endless.

Bolivia

in Bolivia, the socialist won
the election, after the American inspired coup
against Evo Morales who had to flee his country
now he can come home again.
The world is turning to socialism to equality
before the conservative dictatorship like the one
the USA suffers under.
In our pandemic times, people see that salvation
is under a coequal society.
Whoever takes charge in the USA it will take longer
the people have been so long under the “freedom whip.”
it will take time for them to see that capitalism is for the few and does benefit the many.
The BLM might be the beginning of a change although,
I have my doubt.
But we must not underestimate the power of the monied class; they have the backing of the military and police
we might see a revolution that will be ******
the big corporation and Wall Street will not cede power unless they are defeated.

The grocery/ wineshop

Once when he lived in Faro (Portugal) and walking about
he came across a grocer shop that was new in 1950.
As window display a packet of washing powder, fossilized
the name of the powder was Blenda, of the same type
his mother had used and tinned sardines.
He entered and was gripped by the sadness of the shop.
It was bigger than he had thought, barrels of wine, and in
a dark corner, old men sat drinking in silence.
So, it was an unofficial wine shop, a hiding place
for the aged who had resigned to their fate of elderliness.
He had a glass of red wine served by a woman older than the shop.
The wine was surprisingly good. He had another drink
and joined the men in the corner.

Hospital workers

It has been another busy day a lot of driving
the destination is yet another hospital that smells of despair.
Busy fat auxiliary nurse, you can hear the friction of sweaty thighs
and the smell of their vaginas.
I’m not surprised the canteen sell mostly sweet cakes and drinks
and low paid, they have no other chances.
The doctors are mostly good at their trade, but some of them
would be happier as car mechanics, if it hadn´t been
for pushy mothers wanting a son with a title.
They are jolly, the nurses on a sugar high, I think.
I sit in the waiting room, the endless waiting for more tests.
My doctor is female, she talks to me softly, but there is steel
in her voice, telling me what to do and eat.
After a shouting match I lost, I gave her one of my books.
Mollified, she forgave my outburst. Yes, she is an angel.

Basket case

There is a smudge on my computer screen trying to clean it with spit,
but no, perhaps it is finger marks left behind by the strange people
Who sits in the back of the computer shop?
Their diet is cola and chocolate; they are thin, bald and weedy looking
I must whisper to them, or they shrink away.
They sulk if I disagree with their diagnosis, it will take time to get
my computer back.
When the owner closes the shop, they climb into toolboxes, the ones with
the helpful drawing of a screwdriver, maybe the smudge is a camera
watching me
when I have a drink tonight, I’ll pour it in the bedroom then go into
the bathroom and smoke a cigarette
buy a can of coke a bar of chocolate, eat and drink in front of the screen
and they will say, look, he is a basket-case like us.

The Autopsy

This is a good day cold but with sunshine
and hard soil which with a mechanical digger
is easy to open for a newly dead
When a patient dies, he/she is sent down
to the doctor in the basement who do the autopsy
he speaks into a mike takes pictures writes a report.
The doctor in question is obese, smoke cigarettes
when on his breaks, is straight out of a crime novel
written by Mike Spillane
This is a good day with sunlight and hard soil but
there will be no funeral today.