Sonya sips
the white wine
I sip beer

we'd just seen
Das Rheingold
by Wagner

in London
she is blonde
and quite tall

and Danish
what you think?
you like it?

she asks me
yes I did
very much

I reply
I’ve seen all
of Wagner's

Ring cycle
but not in
the order

he composed
why is that?
she asks me

how over
the four years
I’ve seen them

I tell her
she sips more
of her wine

I light up
one of my
cigarettes

and inhale
you know who
Jesus Christ

really was?
she asks me
Son of God

so they say
I reply
no she says

He was God
existing
as a man

with all man's
frail limits
in body

and in mind
Son of God
I tell her

not at all
God himself
no second

close person
just himself
being man

for a short
duration
in our sad

history
of being
then why come?

I ask her
just to be
to try out

our frail case
not to judge
or redeem?

I ask her
to judge what?
redeem whom?

He came to
act out His
acting role

in His own
sad drama
she tells me

Nietzsche said
God is dead
I tell her

so He is
we killed Him
she replies

looking past
her blonde hair
at the bar

I see Christ
beard and all
sitting there

drinking wine
preparing
so it seems

to fine dine
with some dame
dressed in red

alive still
in His role
as actor

and not dead
as is said
but Sonya

doesn't see
and sips wine
and I say

nothing more
but listen
to the tide

of the sea
on a far
away shore.

All through double science Sheila thought about the boy shed seen go by that mid-morning break not that hed looked at her too much or responded to her shy smile but she thought of him even to the degree of inking in his name on her small palm John scribbled there in black smudgy ink and she thought he had looked at her he seemed to look at her the way he had turned his head indicated to her at that time that he had and the science teacher talked of something to do with gases and she copied what he had written on the board into her exercise book in her minute scribble with her head to one side has she did while writing her arm at an angle her small hand gripping the pen in an odd fashion he had smiled yes she was sure John had smiled as she had smiled she sighed softly her eyes lifted to the blackboard to take note of what was written her hands scribbled her mind wanted to think of the boy with the quiff of hair the smile yes yes he had smiled and she wanted to stand up and say HE SMILED AT ME as loudly as she could but she never would she was not that type of girl a elbow nudged her the girl next to her nudged her and nodded towards the blackboard the teacher was pointing out something and asked her a question and Sheila had not heard him ask her the teacher was staring towards her expectantly she blushed sorry Sir didnt hear the question she muttered looking at the board and then at the teacher who seemed put out then listen girl listen he said then pointing to another to answer the question he repeated and Sheila still blushing looked at the girl next door and shrugged her thin shoulders the girl looked at her blankly and looked away she looked ta the blackboard and read it through slowly as she could taking note what had been written about gases and she stifled a yawn and looked back at the exercise book and what she had written in her scribbled handwriting she looked at the inner page where she had scribble John and drew a heart-shape with an arrow through it she held the page open just enough for her to see it then opened the book to wait for further instruction regarding gases the teacher walked along in front of the class pointing to the blackboard and indicating a diagram he had drawn Sheila wondered if the boy allow her to hang around with him after all she had seen other girls walk round with the boys either in groups or singly why couldnt she? she asked herself sitting up and staring out of the windows at the grass and the blue of sky over the way and what if he said yes how would she feel then would she walk with him or would she feel too shy to  and then all of a sudden she panicked what if he wanted to kiss her as shed other boys do with girls actually kiss on the lips sort of thing and shed never ever kissed a boy before not even her brother Bert a panicky feeling crept into her stomach what then? what if he wanted to kiss her a piece of chalk pinged onto the desk in front of her and the girl next to her elbowed her again SHEILA are you with us today? the teacher asked bellowing her name out of frustration she nodded and blushed again have you been listening? he asked yes Sir she said what did I ask? he said she stared at him blood pumped through body as if she was on fire and she shrugged as words wouldnt come see me after class he said and walked along the front of the class and asked another a boy with his hand raised she watched the teacher and listened to what he was saying about gases and types of gases and the affects and effects and so on and she felt the need to yawn but put her hand over her mouth and let it out secretly as softly as she could she smelt her palm then gazed at the word John scribbled there and with her lips kissed the inked name as if it was he she kissed her lips on his and she felt spittle on her palm and wanted to leave it there so she could pretend it was his spittle and not hers she looked up at the teacher and tried to give the impression of paying attention to his every word the boy had his hand up again as a question was asked and the teacher nodded and smiled then just as she prepared herself for any potential question that may come her way-God forbid- a bell rang for the end of the lesson and a sense of release flowed through her despite having to have stay and see the teacher afterwards there was a movement of books being put into bags and chairs being moved and voices and talking and the slow moving of bodies towards the door but the teacher was eyeing her as she moved towards him her book tucked away in her bag her palm clenched into a loose fist to hide the scribbled John in her palm she stood before the teachers desk and he stared at her sternly Sheila have you something on your mind? she shook her head feeling the need at that moment almost suddenly to urinate well you certainly were not paying attention to the lesson were you? he asked something worrying you? he asked she was going to say something but she didnt know what to say she couldnt say she was thinking of a boy and about if or not he was going to want to kiss her so she said nothing just shrugged her thin shoulders and gave a vacant expression-an expression her mother said indicated a near death experience-you must pay attention the teacher said I am paid to teach you as well as the others the sciences and I feel it is my duty to do my best to do that do you understand? she nodded taking note of the leather patches on the elbows of his jacket brown and sewn on maybe she thought by his wife or mother now please listen Sheila or youll get behind with the lessons Ok? she nodded and he dismissed her and she walked towards the door wondering if the boy would be on the playing field during lunch recess and if she had the nerve to ask him if she could hang around with him and if he would want to kiss her and o my God she thought panicking what if he did and she blushed at the thought and moved along the corridor amongst moving throng of other kids on their way to lunch or home and a bite to eat and she stood thinking of the boy gazing at her black shoed feet.

She shyly smiled.

Bespectacled,
with white blouse
and loose fitting tie,
she waited by the wall,
sitting, ankle socks,
black shoes, laced.

John passed with Rennie,
hands in pockets,
talking about Mr S
in P.E and the lengths
the guy'll go
to make his authority felt
and the country run
later that day.

Sheila watched him go.

Her thin wired spectacles
enlarging him
and focusing him
up for her.

She wanted to follow
and ask him if she
could hang out with him,
but she feared rejection
and so sat
and watched instead
until he and Rennie
were on the school
playing field
during recess.

She played
with her fingers,
looked around
the grounds,
watched other girls
pass by, braver,
more confident
than she,
more aware
of their worth
or what they
had to offer.

Wear this,
her mother said,
wear that,
don't sit so,
keep your knees together
in the presence
of boys and men
while sitting.

John, she watched,
on the playing field
with the boy called Rennie,
taking in his walk,
his gesture with hands,
his nod of head
or and how
the quiff of hair,
can drive her
to despair,
and maybe
much beside,
if her mother's dominance
wasn't there
in side

Abela
sees nothing
in Renoir's

kind of art
she prefers
Constable

or Rembrandt
so she says
as we lie

in the bed
after ***
cooling down

we smoking
cigarettes
a slight breeze

in the air
a window
half open

moon and stars
visible
those women

at the bar
she utters
with those

hairy men
how could they?
could they what?

fancy them
like sleeping
with an ape

we each have
our own taste
I tell her

I couldn't
not with them
she tells me

I'm glad she
fancies me
and my beard

as I kiss
between thighs
listening

as I do
to her moans
and her sighs.

The peasant monk
walks slow
through the cloister

carrying a bucket
gripped in his
peasant hand

- red knuckles,
head bowed-
I **** the beds

around the cloister garth
-she had me
between her thighs

and the excitement
within her eyes-
Dom Leo

tall and slim
waits outside
the refectory door

to say farewell
before he leaves
for Rome

the following day
-She ****** me dry
in her bed
gazing eye to eye.

Benedict walks from
the men's dormitory
into the lounge of the
locked ward passing

the night nurse still
on duty in her small
office. Yiska is sitting
on the black sofa smoking

a  cigarette, a packet
of cigarettes on the small
coffee table with a plastic
lighter. She looks up when

he enters and says, Want
a cigarette? Thanks, he says
and takes one from the
packet and lights up, and

sits beside her on the sofa.
He's dressed in a dressing
gown over his pyjamas; she's
in a pink nightgown over

what he can't see, and looks
over towards the window
showing early dawn sky
and trees. Life goes on out

there, she says, while we're
stuck in here like ******
Humpty Dumpty's. Benedict
nods and says, And all the

king's horses and all the
king's men can't put us
together again. Silly nursery
rhyme that is, she says, how

can ****** horses put you
together again? even these
****** quacks can't do it
so I'm sure horses can't.

She inhales on the cigarette.
Benedict looks at her beside
him. How did you get in here?
he asks. I was jilted by my

so called fiancé at the altar
and I had mental breakdown,
she says after exhaling smoke
into the lounge. You? she asks.

Tried to stab myself, he says,
so they brought me here, then
I tried to hang myself, so they
locked me in here sans belts

or laces. You tried to hang
yourself in the bogs, didn't you
while here? He nods. Yes, I
borrowed one of the others'

dressing gown belt, he says.
****** persistent aren't you?
she says, smiling. He nods. Now
I'm watched like a blue-arsed

fly round a birthday cake. Did
you have the ECTs? she asks.
He nods and looks at her thigh
showing through the gap of her

gown. Not any good apart from
a headache, he says. I hate them,
she says, I'd rather slit my wrists
and be done with. She inhales

deeply and looks at him. She
takes in his hazel eyes and quiff
of hair and haunted look about
his eyes. Something, he says,

within us dies. Or's killed, she
replies, in a sad voice with a
dark depth to her gazing eyes.

Miriam likes the sun.

Miriam wears her
skimpy bikini on
the Moroccan beach.

Benedict prefers
the shade.

Benedict likes
the skimpy bikini
that Miriam wears
he watches her
as they walk the sand
hand in hand.

She has her sunglasses
pushed to the top
of her red-headed hair
and her freckled face
absorbs the sun
making her
blush looking
in skin and flesh.

He has his sunglasses
over his eyes
from which
he secretly spies
other girls
apart from her
in skimpier bikinis
or fuller filled
or taller than she
or such may be...

Cooler last night
she says eyeing him...

Cool indeed
says he and how
was she who
shares your tent?...

Miserable as sin
with her mouthful
of moans
Miriam says
taking in his brown
quiffed hair
and his far off stare...

I have the ex-army guy
Benedict says
and his tales of woe
and depressive thoughts
eyeing a passing girl
in tight pink shorts...

If only you
were in my tent
with me
she says
it would be time
well spent
not have her moans
and groans to hear...

That time I did
after the nightclubs
of Tangier till dawn
says he
you had your moans
and groans
to fill the air...

Mmm
she says smiling
if only you were
still there making love
with your hands
in my hair...

Too true
says he studying
with shaded eyes
Miriam's assets
bikinied or not
as best he dare.