You all match

Your teeth
All match

Shirt and tie
And evil eye

Skirt and shoes
And political views

Laugh and smile
All are vile

Because you all match
All of you

My first gLove
Lost on the bus
Absentmindedly
Or In the street
Parted in the snow

My stolen gLove
Taken whilst my back
Was turned

My fleeting gLove
Impaled by a stranger
In the street
On a spike
For all to see

My forgotten gLove
Left lonely
For too long

My worn out gLove
Threadbare
From years of absent
Emotion

My Christmas gLove
Ill fitting but warm
And worn
For a day

My lost summer
Lost summer
Lost summer gLove
Didn’t make the suitcase
Home

My gLove for life
Soft yielding
And strong

These are the gLoves
I have loved and lost

Spiked words
Carefully driven
Beneath her finger nails
Barbed even

Black & white Polaroid
Tucked behind the mirror
At an angle
Jaunty
I guess they’d have called it
If ‘they’ had ever bothered
Visiting her bathroom

I think if you were genuine
I’d be intimidated

I think
If you'd seen it
That you wouldn’t have
Asked
No really – I believe
That you have a sense
Of how the scar
the shadow
the blemish
came into being
By his hand
that night

And so you choose
distance over
a tactile
filmic hug

As a filmic experience
it left me rather cold
The dialogue was
at best
Improvised
And crucial scenes
fell out of focus
Amateurly so

The lead frankly
Disappointed
Wandering through
the plot
randomly
And cathartic opportunity
Was lost at every turn
Naively so

And he showed me
his arthritic hands;
pink ginger roots,
digits disorganised
& apologised
for not being able
to carry his own
suitcase

Diagonal flowers
Leaning towards the suns warm hand
Making themselves ridiculous
For the sake of survival

Monkeys in cars
Strumming guitars
La la la la’s
We ain’t all that

Shaving our faces
Finding new places
Tying our laces
We ain’t all that

Appliance reliance
Making new science
Moral compliance
We ain’t all that

Leaving our instinct
Down at the precinct
Never be distinct
We ain’t all that

Barely evolved
Nothing resolved
Power absolved
We ain’t all that

Opposable thumbs
Beating our drums
Hating our mums
We ain’t all that

Intelligent beings
Believing is seeing
Rather be skiing
We ain’t all that

Monkeys in space
Saving our face
Playing the ace
We ain’t all that

Living the dream
Not what it seems
Chicken Supremes
We ain’t all that

Monkeys in cars
Smoking cigars
Staring at stars
We ain’t all that

Monkeys in cars
Counting their scars
Filling the bars
We ain’t all that

Monkeys in suits
All in cahoots
Playing their flutes
We ain’t all that

Where’s little Bo Peep
Cos we are just sheep
And this poem ain’t deep
I ain’t all that