After the ball game
on the high school
playing field
Shoshana is still

sitting there
with another girl
so I go over to her
and she blushes slightly

and I say
what did you think?
she looks at me
and says

not very good
are you?
I smile
no not much

but they will
insist I play
at least you're honest
she says

I am
best way
I reply
the other girl

stands up and says
don't want to play
gooseberry see you
later Shoshana

and she walks off
something I said?
I say
no I think she finds

boys embarrassing
Shoshana says
I look at her
sitting there

dark hair
long straight
bell will ring
in a minute

she says
best get back
towards school
she stands up

and I say
where do you live?
I live a little way away
I get a school bus home

she says
so do I
I say
I know you do

she says
you get on
the same bus
as I do

I look at her
do I?
yes you've not seen me
I get on as quick

as I can
she says
I see you though
a bell rings

from school
well see you later then
I say
and she's off

leaving me there
and I wander back to school
across the grass
watching her go

her slight figure
in the afternoon sun
taking note
of her neat ***.

What did that bit of skirt
want with you
this morning?
Ro asks

I look past him
outside the fence
at kids walking
onto the high school
playing field

just to talk

skirt's don't want
just to talk
they are always
after something
Ro says
want to tie you
down to something
or be their boyfriend
or something sad
like that

no just talk
and not much
of that
I say
she seemed nervous

with you
who wouldn't
and he laughs
anyway how about
a ball game?

Ok
I say

I look away from him
hoping to see
the Shoshana girl
but I don't see her

so I walk with Ro
on the field to play
and other boys
up ready to play

then I see her
sitting on the grass
with some other girl
and she waves
and I wave back

but don't go over
I'm playing ball
on the right wing

but gazing at her
was like hearing
an angel sing.

Yiska wants to take Benny home with her after school and whisk him past her mother and up to her room but she knows her mother would watch her like a hawk especially if she had Benny in tow and would ask her all sorts of questions and where do you think you are going with him? but she can dream about it dream she has brought him home and as she passes her mother in the kitchen her mother in one of her dark moods preparing dinner she climbs the stairs slowly imagining Benny is behind her walking up the stairs probably watching her legs or her *** his eyes glued but she doesn't know so she imagines he is and when she gets to the top of the stairs she pauses on the landing and looks down the stairs and waits listening to the radio her mother has just turned on some classical stuff she pauses there pretending Benny has stopped her and has put his arms around her waist and has laid his hands on her *** and she believes she can feel it his hands his fingers moving but it's in the head in her imagination but no harm in pretending so she lingers there for a short duration looking along the landing wrapping her own arms about herself kissing her shoulder don't forget to change out of your school uniform her mother calls out from below stairs I won't she calls back hugging herself extra tight patting her own *** with a hand as she hoped he would do if he were there and they were standing where she is now and put your ***** blouse in the linen basket her mother calls up ok she calls back unhugging herself walking along the landing walking past her parent's room tempted to peek in wondering if she should just a quick glimpse she stops outside her parent's room and opens the door quietly and peers inside imagining she has Benny beside her and she's showing him inside at the big double bed the tallboy the dressing table where her mother has all her make up and perfumes and drugs for her depression and hairbrushes and the mirror facing her and she says to herself-and the imagined Benny- nice bed what you reckon? make a good bed to do it in? the room smells of perfume of all kinds and a scent of bodies and staleness she is tempted to go lay on the bed and feel it beneath her and makes out they are doing things him beside her touching her and she kisses him and he putting his hand along her thigh and make sure you fold up your school skirt and jumper I don't want it just thrown anywhere her mother calls up to her from downstairs she closes the door to her parent's room and says loudly down the stairs I will fold them up and walks to her own room taking Benny’s imagined hand in hers and enters her own room and closes the door behind her and looks around the room as if through his eyes her mother has been in here and tidied up put things away picked up stuff from the floor taken away the tea plate she'd left there the night before and the soiled linen she'd let drop by the bed she stands there and sighs a window is open to let in air-breath of fresh air her mother calls it-the curtains flap in the breeze sounds from neighbours in their gardens kids from down the street she goes to the window and closes it and looks out at the surrounding area making out Benny’s still behind her his arms around her waist his lips kissing her neck she closes the curtains and stares around the room focusing on her single bed with its pink flowery cover her mother bought her Teddy Bear  now ageing by her pillow not that big she says over her shoulder to the pretend Benny but we could still do it if we're careful she whispers to herself she sits on the bed and stares at her Teddy some nights he is Benny and she hugs him and kisses him and has him next to her as she settles down but Teddy's a lousy lover he does nothing and says nothing she sits the make believe Benny next to her on the bed imagines his hand is tapping the bed be ok Benny says using her voice she stands up and begins to take off her school jumper unbuttoning the green buttons and pulling off and dropping it on the bed then unties the green patterned tie and takes it off and tosses it over her shoulder she sighs closes her eyes you unbutton the blouse she tells the make believe Benny and her fingers unbutton the blouse one by one slowly and once it is unbuttoned she lets his fingers-hers really- take it off of her body and drop it onto the floor what do you think? she asks him shall l take off the skirt or you? her fingers unzip the zip and pulls it down and once loose the skirt falls to the floor and she kicks it across the room and stands there eyes closed pretending he is studying her in her small bra and ******* she waits for his words his comments what are you doing there? and why are the clothes scattered all over the place her mother says from the open door Yiska opens her eyes and stares at her mother standing sullen faced by her bedroom door day dreaming Yiska says about what? her mother asks picking up the school skirt from the floor and folding it neatly and gazing at her daughter stern eyed just day dreaming Yiska says watching her mother putting the clothes in a pile and picking the ***** blouse from the floor and holding the soiled linen in her hands this room was tidy why untidy it? her mother says sorry wasn't thinking Yiska says glad her mother couldn't read her thoughts or see the imagined Benny kissing her neck and whose right hand was fondling her right *** because if she could she'd have a fit.

Sheila can't settle her mind
to lessons
she sees only
the boy John

in her mind's eye
his words repeat themselves
each time
the teacher speaks

maths
English
double P.E
had to be

got through
until at last
it's lunchtime recess
and she can hope

to find him
on the playing field
after a rushed meal
and she stands

on the edge
of the field looking
out to see if he's there
but she can't see him

and worries that recess
will go and she won't
have seen him
she walks onto the field

and there are kids
everywhere in groups
playing ball games
and sitting here and there

then as she turns
he's there
coming towards her
hands in his pockets

walking across the grass
looking for me?
he asks
she nods and searches

through her mind
for the right words to say
been looking for you
she says

trying to put on
a face of not being
put out
but isn't succeeding

he looks at her
taking in her glasses
and large eyes
and hair pinned back

at one side
with a metal clip
well I'm here now
he says

her name's gone again
he says
what is your name?
Sheila

she says
feeling unsettled
that's it
he says

he looks back at the field
behind him at boys
kicking a ball
Rennie asked me

about a game of football
but I said I was seeing you
John says
what did he say?

she asks
said I need to see a doctor
John says
o

she says
looking at the boy
and wondering if
he wants to be there

with her
do you want to play
ball with him?
she asks

no it can wait
he says
and walks on
and she walks beside him

why doe she say
you need to see a doctor?
she asks
as they walk on

he thinks girls
are a waste of time
beside football
I see

she says
don't worry about Rennie
I want to be here
with you

you do?
sure
I wouldn't be here
otherwise  

o right
she says
let's go sit up
that end near the fence

away from the others
and we can talk
he says
she nods and smiles uneasily

he's is near to her
and his hand
is mere inches from hers
and as much as

she'd like him
to hold her hand
she's frightened
that he might

o what to do
she thinks as they walk
on towards the fence
and sit on the grass

and she feels undone
yet excited
to at last be there
with him

watching him
and taking in
his hazel eyes
and quiff of hair

and glad
she's sitting there.

Red haired dame
black roots
dark brown eyes
thin lips

but smiles neat
handles the cell phone
between thin fingers
nails chewed

adding tabs
suggesting networks
that work best
thin tattooed arms

small busted
maybe less expensive
but it's better
she says

Johnny smiles
notes the small stud
in her lower lip
knows her cell phones well

that's for sure
he knows
next to nowt
just to switch

on and off
and send a text or two
and call
now and then

but it's Johnny daughter
who's buying
not he
he's just the onlooker

taking notes
for a poem
just like this
mental note as poets do

to catch the essence
before it takes flight
like some rare moth
into the night.

The school bus stops
and kids get off
and Sheila waits anxiously
by the fence

watching the kids go by
looking at the windows
looking for John
one or two girls

she knows say hello
then move on
then John descends
the steps

and she says
can I hang
around with you?
he stops by the bus

o yes it's you
sorry can't remember
your name
he says

looking at her
Sheila
she says
he walks on

and she walks
beside him
what did you mean
hang around?

he asks
just be with you
when we can
you know

lunch times if we're
on the playing field
or maybe after school
do you live far away?

she asks  
they pass by the fence
and entrance
to the girls' playground

he pauses
sure if you you like
I get a school bus
to West Village

where do you live?
he asks
taking in aspects
of the girl

I live in this town
but I can get a bus
to West most days
I think

she says
hoping she can
not sure
he takes in

her dark hair
her glasses
her school tie
untidy

look I'll see you around
at lunch recess
if we're on
the field ok?

she  nods
unsure what else
to say
but then says

yes look forward to it
and hopes he is too
but he walks on
and away

and doesn't look back
and she goes
in the girls' playground
on edge

unsettled
watching him
disappear from view
undecided what else
to say or do.

As she plays
the Schubert
piano piece
Yochana thinks

on Benedict
even as her mother  
stands behind her
listening to her

every note
Benedict's image
fills her mind
the kiss still

feels damp
upon her lips
and cheek
and as she fingers

the Schubert
she senses her fingers
wanting to finger him
her mother says

you missed a note
you are not focusing
Yochana pauses
her fingers

over the keyboard
of black and white
senses her mother's breath
upon her neck

her mother's fingers
tapping her shoulder
and even as
she begins

to play again
it's Benedict whom
she thinks on
and his eyes she sees

in the reflection
of the piano wood
it must flow
her mother says

let Schubert speak
but Benedict's fingers
on her back
as he held her close

are all she feels
as she moves
to the music's pulse
on the piano stool

and as her mother's breath
floats upon her neck
it's his breath
she imagines

is there
and she and he
not there at the piano
but closer elsewhere.

Johnny watched
the girl
in the coffee shop
with the small tattoo

on her neck
just visible
above her collar
of the blouse

she was dressed in black
like a direttore funereo
rather than a bar girl
she had dark long hair

in a ponytail
and eyes to sink ships
or raise men's *****
he watched her

while he sipped
his large latte
taking in
each aspect

of her visible being
her ****** gestures
her smiles
her tone of voice

the skin tone
of her hands and arms
-that aspect
alone visible-

she moved
with firm intention
going about her tasks
with resolve

and ambition
but she seldom
gazed at him
or if she did

when he came in
it was a small smile
of recognition
a quick glance

as she took
his order
from the menu
and all the while

he drank her in
from strand
of dark hair
to tone of pale skin.

She was a rough dame
Johnny thought
watching her pass by
kind of girl

to take no nonsense
no lip
or give a ear a clip
bust a jaw

and give what for
but there was
an element
of beauty there

the flowing hair
the fine figure
as she walked
the burning eyes

with her backward glance
aff tae Scootlund
she said need
tae gettae wae

nae mair tae say
she said
then was off
with a turn

of her head
and Johnny watched
her go
her firm ***

big *****
***** like
bundled babes
and then out

of sight
like a bold ship
rough riding
in a dark night.

Miss G puts on Chopin
the old record player's
seen better days
one can tell

by the stylus
and the way
Miss G's finger
lifts its down

on the record
I sit at the back
of the class
with a kid named Rennie

Yochana 's at the front
with the blonde girl
-Yochana's dark hair
at shoulder length-

her fingers
pretend playing
on the desktop
her slim body

moving side to side
in the open backed chair
old ***-less thinks
she the pianist

Rennie darkly says
I'm already watching
her hands going cross
in front of her

side to side
and her slim body
captured in my inner
eye and out

and secretly
I blow kisses
at her
when no one's about.

The boy John
had gone

he'd been there
for about an hour
sitting on the settee
then briefly
-with her mother's
permission-
out in the garden
where they looked
for birds and butterflies

Elaine had seen him off
from the front garden gate
-her mother peering
through net curtains-
and watched until
he disappeared
around a bend

did you know
he was coming?
her mother asked

no I had no idea
Elaine replied
looking at
the empty place
on the settee
where he'd sat

he does know
you're 14
I suppose?

he's in my class at school
he's 14 too
Elaine said
sensing the place
where he'd sat
beside her and the kiss
on the lips
so sudden so gentle
yet Mum had been
in the kitchen
what if she had seen?

he might have
asked first
her mother said
not just turn up
on the doorstep

I didn't know
Elaine said
then licked her lips
where his lips
had been

can I trust you?
her mother asked

trust me
to do what?
Elaine said

do nothing
her mother said

do nothing?
Elaine said
looking unsure
what her mother meant

do things with him
her mother said

do things?
Elaine repeated
what things?

her mother frowned
and said
nothing just nothing

Elaine nonplus
nodded her head

her mother smiled
now what
was I doing?
she said
o yes the washing
and went off
to the wash room
and left Elaine frowning
at her mother's
departing figure

do nothing?
Elaine muttered
to herself
and patted the space
where the boy John
had sat
then touched her lips
and that was that.

There's a boy
at the door for you
Elaine's mother said
talking to Elaine
at the door of her room

what boy?
Elaine asked

he said his name was John
her mother said
looking unhappy
her voice strained

he's here?
Elaine asked

I’ve just said he is
her mother said

Elaine frowned
how did he know
where I lived?

how do I know
her mother said

where is he?
Elaine asked

by the front door
now get along
and see him
and then tell me
what is going on
her mother said

Elaine went down stars
to the front door
and there he was
the boy John
standing by the door

how did you know
where I lived?
she asked him
leaning by the door
unsure what to do
or say more than that

I asked someone
in the village
and they said here
I got the bus here
from my village
he added

O I see
she said
looking at his eyes
hazel and bright

well invite him in Elaine
don't need to stand
on the doorstep
the mother said

ok
Elaine said
and invited John in
and they walked
into the living room
where he was invited
to sit on the brown settee  

I’m Elaine's mother
and you are John?  

yes,I'm John
he said
we go to school together
he added
on the bus
he put in
after a few seconds silence

I see
the mother said

she sat in an armchair
opposite him
and Elaine sat
on the settee
beside John

Elaine's not mentioned
you before
the mother said
eyeing the boy seriously

O I see
he said
looking at Elaine

never thought to say
Elaine said
looking at her slippers

are you friends
at school?
the mother said

yes
he said
we are

Elaine looked
at her mother
hoping he wouldn't
mention the kiss
he'd given her

we share an interest
in birds and butterflies
he said
gazing at the mother

birds and butterflies?
the mother said

yes I bring my book
to school and we
exchange what
we've seen
he said

O I see
the mother said
unsure of the boy
but thinking
he seemed all right

can I get you
a drink of tea?
the mother asked

he looked at Elaine
then at the mother
yes that would be lovely
he said
one sugar if I may
he added

the mother nodded
and smiled
and went out
to the kitchen
leaving the two alone

why did you come here?
Elaine asked
looking at the boy

I wanted to see you
he said
and I didn't want to
wait until Monday
he added

O I see
she said
feeling uncertain
feeling unsure
what she should
say or do

you don't mind do you?
I didn't think
I came on impulse
I don't usually
but I couldn't get you
out of my mind
he said

really?
she said
a smile lingering
on her lips
but not breaking out

yes
he said
ever since you got off
the bus on Friday
I’ve been like this
and he leaned forward
and planted
a gentle kiss.

I waited by the pond-or lake as Yehudit called it being a romantic- staring across the skin of the water. Dragonflies hovered over the still surface like miniature helicopters, then took off zigzagging this way and then that. Ducks swam by on the other side gliding on the surface and now and then ducking under the water like upturned boats. Yehudit said yesterday to meet at the lake. I'll be there, Baruch, she said-she Herbrewizes  my name sometimes, most call me Benny-, even if I have to sneak out of a window. Some days her mother makes it difficult for her to get out before chores, and as it was the start of the summer school holidays, she was more firmer than ever about getting chores done. I looked at the bushes across the water leading into the woods that way. Behind me were more bushes and trees of the other part of the wood. There was an area secluded from the rest behind me where Yehudit and I had made love a couple of times. Even though it was secluded we were always on the listen for sounds, for foot steps or human voices. One time a grey squirrel spied on us as we were making love, stood on a branch and watched us for a few moments like some hairy voyageur. I stood with my hands in the pockets of my blue jeans, my white shirt open at the neck and loose from my jeans trying to act the cool kid. On the way to the pond I had passed cows in a field, avoiding cow pats, unsure if one of them might be a bull. I walked past the secluded area wondering we could have been seen by anyone passing by. I couldn't see in so I guess no one would if we were silent and not going it some. I thought it was silent, but it wasn't, there were birds singing, a woodpecker was hammering away in the woods to my left. There was no breeze, the air was still, it was balmy. Then she was there, coming out of the woods by a narrow path. Been waiting long? She asked. No, not long, I said. She was dressed in a black skirt and green top. She stood there staring at the water. Had a job to get out with out too many questions, she said. Where are you going in such a hurry? Mum asked, and so on and I said, meeting Baruch and she said who? Baruch or Benedict, I said. What'd she say then? I asked. Third degree questions where and what are you doing kind of stuff. What'd you say? Yehudit sighed and sat on the grassy bank and pulled her skirt over her knees- spoilsport- I sat next to her. I said I was going with you butterfly watching, Yehudit said. Did she believe you? I doubt it. But she let me go eventually. She lay back on the grass, looking up at the blue sky. I turned and lay on my stomach studying her. So what now? I asked. Have to see, won't we. I eyed her lips. Red, pink, slightly open. She spoke. What if she comes and looks for me? The lips moved opening and closing with each word. I loved her chin, the curve of it, the redden cheeks. Why would she? I asked, lowering my eyes to her neck. I'm fourteen as are you, and I think, she thinks things about us. Such as? Her neck was creamy white, soft, kissable, but no love bites were visible, thank God. She thinks we're having ***, I think, Yehudit said. We are, I said, looking at the swell of her *******, snuggled away like small babes. But, she shouldn't know that; she ought not to even think of that, Yehudit said angrily. Did she say as such? No, but I felt  as if she thought we were or had. Yehudit looked at me. Her bright eyes searched me. So she just might come here, she said, spy on us. I laughed. It's no laughing matter, Baruch, what if she does? We're just sitting here; no harm in that, I said. Anyway, I said, did you tell her where we'd be? She nodded. I had to or she'd not let me out. She'd walk half a mile to catch you being ******? I said. Someone may have seen us last time, Yehudit said. Who and where? She closed her eyes. I wanted to kiss her *******, but they were wrapped away like gifts. Don't know, but someone my mother knows. So we just sit here until it all blows over, I said. How long? Baruch, I can't just sit by a pond all day waiting to see if my mother turns up. I kissed her neck. Soft, velvety. She opened her eyes. That doesn't help. I kissed her chin. Nor does that. I kissed her lips, she murmured then was silent. We kissed. Warm, sticky, tongues touching. She hugged me close to her; I touched her hair with my left hand and her thigh with my right going beneath her skirt. She pulled away. What if she come? What if she does? What then? I said. I'm for it, Yehudit said. We kissed again. My hand touched her *****. She giggled. Stop or she'll hear me, Yehudit said. The pond was still; ducks swam on their way. Dragonflies hovered and took off. I turned away and lay back on the grass, staring at the sky, feeling dampness on my fingers. It's too risky, she said. She may come. I watched white clouds drift by. My pecker had stirred. My heart was thumping fast. Sorry, she said, want to, but I'd not relax thinking her near listening. I closed my eyes, recalled the last time. After church, before she went home, us coming to the pond and it just happened. Us in the secluded area, the sound of the Sunday hymns going round my head, the bushes our shelter, the soft grass our green bed. Not your fault, I said, musing on the last time ******* on our soft green bed.

Elaine sat in class.
She'd seen John
on the bus, but he
had not looked over

at her, but gazed out
the window, sitting
beside the boy Trevor.
She looked back and

he was sitting at back
of class with a boy
called Rowland, he
looking at some book

the boy was showing him.
Once the pupils were
all there Miss G took
the register calling out

the names. Elaine wished
John was beside her at her
desk; wished he was talking
to her not the Rowland boy.

She sat uneasy, her body
plumpish, her glasses smeary
needing cleaning. Miss G
talked about music; about

Mozart; about his piano
works and put on a LP and
the pupils sat arms folded
or hands over faces listening

-or not- to the unfolding
Mozart music piece. Her sister
talked of boys over breakfast;
what so and so had done and

where and their mother had said
NOT AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE
loudly but did boys really sniff
after girls as her sister had said?

Elaine never heard John sniff her.
He had kissed her that day, but
not sniffed-thank God- and she looked
at Miss G as the music played away.

It's raining
and I see Yiska
in the assembly hall
after lunch

other kids are there
in groups or walking
utterly bored
a few prefects

wander about
on the look out
I go stand beside her
I hate the rain

she says
means we're stuck in
all break then
more boring lessons

the corridors
are packed too
kids passing
back and forth

teachers on
their way places
I say
she stares out

at the rain falling
can see you and talk
but that's it
too many eyes

to do anything else
she says
and the gym's
got kids in it

doing things on the ropes
and mats
keeping fit freaks
I see channels

of rain running
down the window pane
so close yet
so far

I say
meaning?
she says
both here close

but far from doing
anything
I say
she looks around her

at the kids passing
at the groups of girls
talking by the stage
a few boys

swapping cards
by the far off wall
I could have gone
home to lunch

but I didn't want
to get soaked
going home
so I stayed

she says
I recall the time
she took me home
to her place

and her mother
was in a mood
and said little
but I did get to see

Yiska's room
but that was all
just the bed there empty
and her mother calling

where are you
and I want to kiss
her beside me
but can't

what can
a 14 year old boy do?

It looked like rain.

Sky dark and dim.

Yiska stood
in the playground
waiting to see Benedict
get off the school bus.

She needed to see him
before lessons began
or there would be
little chance if it rained.

She had prayed
-at least in mind-
for dry weather
and clear skies,
but it didn't
seem promising.

Kids passed on
their way into
school playgrounds:
boys into theirs,
girls into theirs.

Why couldn't
they mix?
She mused.

One school bus
came in,
but not his,
his was a different bus
than that which arrived.

More kids walked past.

She sighed.

Scratched a thigh,
brushed fingers
through her hair.

Then it came in
around the bend.

She searched
the windows,
hoping he
was coming,
hoping he'd
be first off
not last as he
was sometimes.

He was last,
head down,
hand in pockets,
looking at the ground
in deep thought.

She hoped he'd
looked up as
he went by.

She hoped.

She wondered.

Benedict,
she called,
peering through
the wire fence.

He looked up
and smiled.

Can we talk?
She asked.

Yes, sure,
he said
and he followed her
along the fence
as she looked
for space where
it was free of girls.

Looks like rain,
she said,
looking at the sky,
then at him.

Yes, it does,
he said,
peering at her
through the fence,
wishing it wasn't there.

Won't see you much
if it rains, if at all,
she said.

He leaned near
as he could,
poked a finger
through a hole
and she touched
his finger with hers.

No, unless we
arrange to meet
some place
in the school
at lunchtime.

Yes, but where?
She said,
getting her lips
as close to the fence
as was possible.

He leaned in closer
their lips touched
between the small gap
in the wire fence.

Gym?
He suggested.

Too busy,
she replied,
always keep-fit freaks
in there lunchtimes.

He mused feeling
her lips again.

Warm, wet.

A bell rang.

They parted
and she said,
look out for me.

He nodded
and the girls lined up
in classes.

He walked
off quickly
into the boys playground
around the school building,
thinking of her,
sensing the dampness
of her lips on his,
taking one last glimpse
of her as he passed,
the bell
was still ringing,
but he couldn't
be arsed.

Benny's the new boy
in class
he sits at the back

with some kid
called Rennie
while the teacher

Miss G
yaks on
about Schubert

or some feller
putting on
some LP

as they sit
and put on
interested faces

the girl who
smiled at him
on the school bus

is there
looking over at him
beaming like

a new sun
her eyes bright
as fresh stars

he looks
at her briefly
then looks away

storing her eyes
for some
other day.

Yehudit likes
the new boy
on the bus
she smiled has

he got on and
watched him walk
to the back
of the school bus

and sit in
a side seat
now she sits
at the front

of the bus
thinking about him
now and then
she looks back

over her shoulder
but he's looking out
the window
not at her

so she looks
forward again
musing on
what his name maybe

and whether he'll
be the type
she wants or likes
he looks good

the quiff of brown hair
the hazel eyes
-she gawked him good
as he got on board-

and he had that
Elvis smile
-feels goosebumps-
she thrusts her hands

between her thighs
and smiles to herself
in anticipation
scenery goes by

trees
hedges
fields
cows in the field

telegraph poles
birds in flight
in the sky
but all she

can think on is
what is his name?
and wondering
if he is looking

at her now
but she guesses
not somehow.

Lizbeth finds
dinnertimes
a right chore

sitting there
at the oak
table with

her moody
mother there
facing her

her father
glum as hell
beside her

and Lizbeth
trying hard
to ignore

both of them
its beef stew
thick gravy

and drowned out
vegetables
you're quiet

Mother says
anything
wrong with you?

nothing's wrong
Lizbeth says
gazing at

the beef stew
you've a mood
I can tell

Mother says
if the girl
wants silence

why complain
Father says
I know her

and you don't
Mother says
to Hubby

Lizbeth stares
at Mother
I'm just on

nothing else
Lizbeth moans
on the rag

Auntie's come
sandwich week
THAT'S ENOUGH

Mother shouts
rattling
the windows

I won't have
you talking
like that here

at mealtimes
it's not nice
Lizbeth stares

at Father
as he mouths
the beef stew

in silence
did you know
Lizbeth says

that Tudor
King Henry
the 7ths

mother was
married at
12 years old

and had him
at 13
Mother sighs

your point is?
that's my age
she sprouted

her king sprog
at my age
Mother glares

at her child
with her dark
angry eyes

Lizbeth thinks
of Benny
pretending

he's upstairs
in her room
stark naked

all waiting
eat your stew
Mother says

no more talk
of those things
outside it's

countryside
fluttering
butterflies

a bird sings.

You have seen flowers fade,
Grown men falter, hard rain
Against bedroom windows,

Felt the numbness of the still
Born babe, sensed the slap
Across the face from Mother’s

Hand, felt the wind of time
Finger your hair, your lover’s
Kiss dry on the brow. You have

Known the hammer blows of
Love, the silence of the night
Alone, the empty bed of lust,

The tiredness at dawn. You
Sought unconditional love,
But found only the love with

Strings attached, with a price
Tag on the gift of love and touch
And maybe promises. You have

Felt the dead baby fall, the womb
Ring empty in the troubled nights,
The poxed phallus between the

Thighs, the sour kisses of long
Betraying love. You have played
Bach until the ears bled, played

Cards with a drowned woman,
Dreamed of the sister you never
Had, dreamed of the baby you

Lost, felt the baby **** on the
Dug, sensed the dream fade to
A dead baby’s coffin. You sleep

And you wake, you want to live
And want to die, you want to be
Forever young, a perpetual mother,

A constant lover, an untroubled
Daughter, not be lonely, left in
The dark, sacrificed on someone’s

****** altar. You are and am not,
Born to be, then left to rot, you
Want your mother’s embrace,

Want certainty, want undying
Love, God’s redeeming grace.

I know your final days,
my son, by mental rote,
from Thursday to Monday,
from being unwell
to the last seconds dying,
like a child learning
a new nursery rhyme
note by note,
until it's unforgettable,
stuck in each particle
of cells and brain,
bringing thoughts
of disbelief
and punch hard pain.

Sleep seems
the only comfort,
that lying down,
snug between
cloth and warmth,
mind drugged to
a doped up
momentary
forgetting or easing,
but still it's there
when we awake,
the sense of loss,
that utter disbelief,
that deep down
cannot be hidden grief.

I wish I were
more Stoic like you,
my son, my deep philosopher,
my silent one;
wish I had some
philosophic remedy
to cure the ache,
to soothe the mind,
some crutch or stick
to tap around like
one who's blind,
but I have none,
none that will ease
or remedy the ill
of your departure,
none to fill
the huge chasm
between you there
in Death's hold
and God's grace
and me left here
sensing loss
and the cold breeze
of death's breath
in my ageing face.

Feel right here
Lizbeth says
pointing her

sensual
finger there
and she dreams

she's lying
on a beach
and he's there

Benedict
beside her
and she takes

his finger
and lets it
feel the place

she wants felt
like spreading
special cheese

and watching
it warming
slowly melt.

We'd got half way up
the Downs she talking
of certain flowers and
butterflies that had

passed us fluttering by
and we rested by the
large hollow tree and
she said shall we go

inside it's large enough
for us and more? I said
ok and we did we climbed
inside the big hollow

tree and it was like a
largish room a hole in
the side of the tree acted
as  a door and a small hole

acted as a window nature's
little lodgings she said and  
we sat back on the inner
parts of the tree and there

was a little ledge like a seat
for  two and we sat there
and she said I think it's
lovely this yes it is I said

-and was glad Lizbeth never
knew of this or she'd have
drawn me in and wanted
somehow to have said

about having ***- Jane
was content to just be there
sharing a bit of nature and
being with me and she said

Daddy showed me this
when I was little and I was
amazed and thought fairies
came here and hollowed it

out I smiled and thought
Lizbeth would never have
thought that and I doubted
her father would have bothered

to show her anything makes
it so homely Jane said fancy
living here and coming back
here after a day's work and

having no place to wash or
bath and she laughed and I
loved that aspect of her that
innocence that being part of

what was natural and I wanted
to kiss her and hug her but I
didn't we just sat there sharing
the hollow tree just Jane and me.

There was snow
right up to
the doorstep

ankle deep
even the
Downs had snow

still be school
Mother said
the school bus

will get through
-what a bore
I had thought-

and it did
right outside
the blue bus

so we got
on the bus
and it drove

through the snow
Jane was there
looking cold

by a side
window seat
I sat there

next to her
how are you?
feeling cold

she told me
yes me too
I replied

few flowers
to look at
everything

is covered
in this snow
she told me

but it was
good being
next to her

that perfume
of apples
her dark hair

and dark eyes
and her hand
holding mine

out of sight
gently so
on that bus

in the snow.

She sat watching ducks
on the pond,
I lay beside her
watching clouds pass.

She still wore
her school uniform
as did I having got off
the school bus
and came right
there to the pond.

Yehudit was silent
-a miracle in itself-
birds sang
from trees nearby,
traffic noises
were audible
from the road
over the way.

Still got the huff?
I said,
looking at her
sideways on.

She turned
and glanced at me;
bright blue eyes stared.

You were with her
all through lunch hour
and not me,
she said, and what's
she got I haven't?

I live near you;
she lives near school
miles away,
I said.

And? So what?
Yehudit said.

I don't get to talk
with her except
at school,
I said.

You were more
than talking.

I watched
as she turned away,
her hair brown
and on her shoulders;
her bra strap edged
through the cotton blouse.

She sat in a provocative way
and you were
too close to her,
Yehudit said.

I studied the way
her figure narrowed;
her *** was neat.

I saw you from
where I was sitting.

I saw you,
I said,
gawking at us.

She turned
and stared at me.

Does that kiss
at Christmas
mean nothing to you?
Yehudit asked.

I recalled the kiss
and moonlight
and stars
and the choir sang
carols to people
in the houses.

Means a lot,
I said.

Didn't seem like it
lunchtime when you
were all over her
like she was a *****
on heat.

The school tie
was untied
and pulled away
from her neck.

Her ******* pushed
against cloth.

She hasn't your humour
or your figure,
I said.

She lay beside me
and turned
and stared.

Is that so?
She asked,
eyes wide and blue.

Yes, of course,
I said.

What else can a boy
say or do?

They met in the Square. Weather warm and sun sticky. Hannah was in her short dress and sandals. Benedict in jeans and tee shirt and black plimsolls. It was Saturday and they'd decided to give the morning matinee a miss and go elsewhere. We can go and paddle on the side of the Thames, she said. Can we? He asked. Sure we can. He wasn't sure. Is it wise? He said, what with all the crap that's put in? She looked at him. We're not to drink the water, just paddle in it. It's water, not **** pool, she said. Won't we need towels? No, our feet'll dry in the sun. She eyed him. How old are you? Twelve, he said. Not a baby, then? She said. No, he replied. We're both twelve, she said, so let's go get our feet wet. What did your mum say when you told her where you were going? I didn't, Hannah said. Why not? He said. Because she'd have said:Ye cannae gang in th' Thames. So I didn't tell her. What did you say? He asked. Said I was going to see boats on the Thames. What did she say to that? Benedict asked. Dornt faa in th' water, she said. Benedict laughed at Hannah's mocking her mother's Scottish dialect. What did you say to her? Hannah pulled a straight face, stern features. I said, Ah willnae. He laughed again. Right let's be off, she said. They walked out of the Square and up Meadow Row. Did you tell your mum where you were going? Hannah asked. Just said I was going out with you, he said. What did your mum say? Hannah asked. She said ok and be careful, he replied. They walked to the bus stop and got a bus to South Bank. The bus was crowded. They sat at the back on side seats. A plump man next to Hannah wiggled up close to her; his thigh touched hers. She felt uncomfortable. He smelt of sweat and cigarette smoke. She was glad when they got off. She stared at him and mumbled, ye mingin prat. Benedict said, what? Not you, that prat on the bus, touching me, she said. Benedict watched the bus go. You should have said, he said, we could have got him thrown off the bus. Too much hassle, she said. They walked along by the Thames, looking down at the water. Looks too high, Benedict said. Maybe later, she said. So they lay side by side on the grass by the Thames and enjoyed the sun.  Her fingers touched his. They were warm and dampish. He sensed her fingers against his. They turned and faced each other, finger still touching. Do you like me? She asked. Of course I do, he replied. She eyed him. I think of you a lot, she said. Do you? He said. She nodded. Yes, quite a bit, she said. O, right, he said, looking at her, taking in her darkish eyes and her hair in a ponytail. Have you ever kissed a girl before? She asked. He looked past her at the passing people. A man with a dog stared at them. I kissed my aunt once, he said, looking at her again. No, I meant a girl, not a relative, Hannah said. He thought, searching through his memory files. Don't think so, he said. Couldn't have been very good if you can't remember, she said. He never made a habit of kissing girls: other boys frowned on such behaviour. He had kissed a girl with one leg once at a nursing home when he was eleven. A year ago, yes, he said, I kissed a girl with one leg a year or so ago. Where did you kiss her? Hannah asked, her leg? He smiled. No,on her cheek, he replied, remembering. Why did you kiss her? Hannah asked. She said I could. She was twelve and big and had just the one leg. Hannah looked at him. Took in his quiff of hair, the hazel eyes and the Elvis smile-she'd seen a photo in a magazine of Elvis Presley and loved the smile- and the set of his jawline. Do you kiss any girl with one leg? She asked.  No, he said, just that one time. She looked at him, her fingers beginning to squeeze his. Would you kiss me? She asked. He hadn't thought about it. Hadn't entered his mind. Did you want me to? He said. Do you want to, she replied. What would your mum say? She'd say: whit ur ye kissin' fur? . He laughed. It tickled him when she said spoke her mother's dialect. He looked at her face. Where? He said. Where what? She said. Kiss you? Where shall I kiss you? He said, feeling shy all of a sudden. Where did you want to kiss me? He looked away. Crowds were passing by on the South Bank. Don't know, he said, looking back at her. She sighed. Looked at him. Squeezed his fingers tighter. I'll kiss you, then, she said. She leaned close to him and kissed his cheek. It was a short kiss. He sensed it: warm and wet. Was that it? He mused. She lay there staring at him. Well? What do you think of that? She said. He wasn't sure. It felt all right. It was ok, he said. Just ok? She said, looking at him. He nodded. She drew him closer to her and kissed his lips and pressed long and hard. He panicked briefly as if he'd not breathe again, but he relaxed as her lips became glued to his, and he closed his eyes, and felt a mild opening in himself and he breathed through his nose. As she kissed him, her lips pressing on his, she felt a warm feeling rise through her body as she'd not felt before. It felt unreal. Felt as if she'd entered another body and was a spectator in a game. She pulled away from his lisp and stared at him. How was that? Sh asked. He lay there his eyes closed as if dazed. He opened his eyes. Gosh, he breathed rather than said. She blew out and lay back on the grass. He lay back, too. What would your mum say if she saw us kissing? She smiled and said, lae heem aloyn ye dornt ken whaur he's bin. Benedict laughed and closed his eyes trying to picture Mrs Scot saying it. What does it mean? He asked laughing. Leave him alone you don't know where he's been, she said smiling. She turned and looked at him again. He turned and gazed at her. The laughter died away. How do you feel? She asked. Feel about what? He said. No, how do you feel inside? She said. He didn't know. It was new to him this kissing. He sighed. Don't know. How about you? He said. Tingly, she said in reply. Inside me. My body tingled. Is that a good thing? He asked, uncertain of these matters. I don't know, she said, looking at him. Do you want to paddle in the Thames? He asked. No, not now, she said, I want to kiss again. They lay there gazing each other. Let's go elsewhere though, she suggested. Where? He asked. St James's Park, she suggested, we can get a bus there. Ok, he said. So they walked to the bus stop and got a bus to St. James's Park. It was crowded. People everywhere: walking, sitting, lying down, running. They both sat on then grass, then after a few minutes, they lay on the grass. Hannah stared at him. He looked at her eyes. She moved forward and kissed his lips. Pressed them, breathing through her nose, closed her eyes. He closed his eyes as she closed her eyes. His lips felt hers. Warming, pressing, wettish, her tongue touching his just on the tips. He felt as if suddenly as if he were falling and then he opened his eyes and she had moved away from him. Well? She said, how was that? He sensed his lips slightly bruised, but warm and he felt unusually alive. She gazed at him. She felt opened up as if someone had unzipped her and exposed her. It was good, he said, taking hold of her hand, holding it against his cheek. She sighed, it was  good, but it felt surreal, as if it had been a dream, not real, not her kissing. It was, she said, still kissing him inside of her twelve her old head.

She sat on her bed
looking out the window.

Hannah looked at
the fulling rain.

Her mother passed by
the bedroom door
and looked in.

Whit ur ye daein'?
Her mother said.

Looking at the rain,
Hannah replied.

Ye can help me
wi' the washin',
her mother said.

Do I have to help
with the washing?

Her mother stared
at her
Whit ur ye
waitin' fur?

I'm waiting
for Benedict,
Hannah said,
gazing at her
mother's stern gaze.

O heem th'
sassenach loon,
her mother said
and walked off
down the passage.

Hannah waited.

She'd was pushing
her manners close
to the limits.

Once upon a time
her mother would
have slapped her
behind for talking so,
but now at 12 years
old her mother dithered
and set her tongue
to work instead.

She eyed the rain
running down the glass.

She could hear
her mother in the kitchen
banging pots and pans.

Then a knock at the door.

Benedict no doubt.

Gie th' duir, Hannah,
her mother bellowed.

Hannah went to the door
and let Benedict in.

He was wet, his hair
clung to his head
and his clothes were damp.

Got caught
in the downpour,
he said,
shaking his head.

Hannah smiled.

I'll get you a towel
to dry your hair,
she said.

She got him a towel
from the cupboard
and he began
to rub his hair.

We can't go out in this,
Hannah said,
have to stay here
and we can play games.

He rubbed his hair dry,
took off his wet coat
and stood by her bed.

What games?
he said.

Ludo? Chess?
Draughts? She suggested.  

Her mother came back
to the door of the bedroom.

Ye swatch dreich,
the mother said,
eyeing Benedict.

He looked at Mrs Scot
and then at Hannah.

Mum said you look drenched,
Hannah said.

O right, yes, I am,
he replied and smiled.

Mrs Scot didn't
smile back.

Dornt sit oan
th' scratcher,
Mrs Scot said icily.

Mum said don't sit
on the bed,
Hannah said.

Mrs Scot went
off muttering.

Where shall I sit?
He asked.

We'll sit on the floor,
Hannah said,
and play chess.

He nodded his head,
his quiff of hair
in a damp mess.

Hannah and I
lie on the grass
by Arrol House

she shows me
a penknife
her father'd brought
home for her

a thin bladed one
with a white handle
it's in the palm
of her hand balancing

it looks good
I say

that's not what
Mum said when Dad
brought it home
Hannah says

what did she say?
I ask

Whit did ye brin'
'at haem fur?
she said

what did your
dad say?

nothing he pretended
he was deaf
and just gave me
the knife and went
and sat in his armchair
and read his newspaper

how do you understand
what your mum is saying?
I'm never sure
if she's being angry
with me or if
that's just her
being nice

probably the former
she's seldom
nice to people
Hannah says

she puts the knife
in the pocket
of her skirt
and says
where we going then?

we can stay here
if you like
I say
lying in the sun
and talking

o sure
and have my mum
peering out
the window at us
saying
whit ur ye tois
up tae?  

I fall back laughing
what's that mean?

it's what are you
two up to?
Hannah says
no let's go
through the Square
and get an ice lolly
and 1d drink
and look at
the cheap shop
on the New Kent Road

so we up and go
over the mental fence
and through the Square
and go buy
our ice lollies
and 1d drinks

and I wonder
as we walk
what her mother
says and thinks.

Her parents
row at night
Fay heard them

from her bed
her brothers
young and small

innocent
in their sleep
she held tight

in her hand
her wooden
rosary

her small thumb
rubbed over
the plaster

crucified
two voices
in conflict

high and low
a duet
that threatened

harsh violence
Fay's body
huddled up

beneath wool
coverings
if only

Benedict
could be there
him there now

at the foot
of her bed
her 12 year

old white knight
and she his
12 year old

young princess
of their twin
childlike game

but he's not
he sleeps in
his own bed

in a flat
on the next
balcony

beneath hers
if only
he would come

sword in hand
standing there
at the foot

of her bed
protecting
with his mum's

small saucepan
a helmet
on his head.

We're on a bomb site
behind the tabernacle
looking for some
ammunition for

my catapult
which I carry
in the back pocket
of my jeans

Fay is looking
amongst the debris
of old bombed
out houses

or just area  
left where
houses stood
it's a sunny day

holiday time
no school
-makes me happier-
is this one too big?

she asks
I look over
no that's a good one
I say

she brings it over
to where I stand
she holds it
between her

thin finger and thumb
and she drops it
into my palm
I weigh it up

and down then
drop it into
my pouch
-a knotted handkerchief-

she looks at me
her blue eyes
searching me
her fair hair

brought behind
her head in
a ponytail
have you ever

thought about self?
I look at her
self?
I say

what do you mean?
the I of us
what we call me
I look nonplus

and look down
for more small stones
a nun at school
said the I

in Christianity means
the I crossed out
in the form
of a cross

in other words
our self is not
more important
than that I or self

of another
and as a Christian
we should put
the self

of another first
I find a small stone
and pick it up
and finger it

so the cross is
supposed to show
self crossed out?
I say uncertainly

she looks at the stone
I'm holding
yes that's what
she was saying

self denial I think
is what she meant
Fay says
scratching her head

this nun at school
does she ever
tell jokes?
Fay frowns

no not as far
as I've heard
well I could
tell you one

O'Brien told me
but it's not for girls
to hear
not girls

as good as you
I say
Daddy says jokes
are sinful to say

and to hear Fay says
when I innocently
told him one
the other year

a girl at school told me
he spanked me
and said never
to hear or say jokes

ever again
what was the joke?
I ask
shouldn't say

she says
there's only you
and me here
no one will know

if you tell me
except God
and I guess He's
heard it before

I say
she looks at me
her blue eyes
staring

ok but don't
tell Daddy
I told you
she says

I promise not to tell
your old man
I say
well a man took his wife

to the cinema
and as they waited
in the queue
a man in front of them

passed wind
and the husband
said to the man
how dare you

pass wind
in front of my wife
and the man said
sorry I didn't know

it was her turn
I laugh and so does she
and I like how
her eyes sparkle

when she laughs
and her face lights up
like a summer day
then she's looks

at her hands
that was good
I say
but it's sinful

she says
but the brightness
in her face and eyes
didn't go away.

Cows mooed. Birds bubbled in a nearby hedgerow. Butterflies fluttered by. A Gatekeeper, Jane said, pointing to a butterfly fluttering by. Benedict watched as the butterfly fluttered along ahead of them. Wasn't sure, he said. He caught her out of the corner of his eye. Dark hair, let loose, shoulder length; blue flowered dress short sleeved. I ought not to say whom you can see and whom you can't, she said, pausing by the hedgerow, looking up the narrow road leading to the small church, if you want to see that Lizbeth girl it's up to you, she added. Benedict looked at her. She comes looking for me; I don't go looking for her, he said. Her eyes looked at him: dark eyes, warm, searching, honest-to-God eyes. What does she want with you? Jane asked. A sound of a tractor in the distant field. Whatever it is she won't get it, he said, eyeing her lips, how they part slightly, her teeth, small but even. She seemed hooked on you, Jane said. She looked at Benedict's quiff of brown hair, his hazel eyes. Guess she is. He tries to push thoughts of Lizbeth ******* in her room a few months ago and how she wanted him to have *** with her and he didn't want to and didn't. Much to her annoyance. He pictures her body semi-undressed, her bed waiting for them. He couldn't. Jane frowned. I had a word with her in the girl's toilet at school, Jane said, she showed no shame in wanting to have *** with you; I couldn't believe any girl could just do that. Benedict sighed. Some can and do, he said, I didn't want to and so didn't. She seemed relieved to hear that and walked on and he walked on beside her.  Why didn't you? She asked, have *** with her? He thought before answering, didn't want to say the wrong thing. He heard the cows mooing louder as they walked up towards the church lane. I wouldn't, not just out of lust, he said. If you loved her would you? She asked. He didn't love Lizbeth, he liked her for reasons he couldn't quite fathom, but it wasn't love. Don't think so, he answered. She was quiet and they walked on up the narrow lane. A blackbird flew over their heads. The smell of flowers was strong. Cow dung from the farm was as strong. He studied Jane's hand near his: slim, fingers narrow, neat nails. Do you love her? Jane asked. No, he replied. He wanted to say he loved her, loved Jane, but it was a big statement to say and he didn't want just to blurt it out. They entered the churchyard. The small church was nearby. Lizbeth had been here with him twice or so. Once suggesting they have *** on one of the church pews. Narrow wooden pews. Would she have? He asked himself as he and Jane walked past old tombstones. He guessed she would, but he couldn't, not there, not anywhere. Jane paused by a grave. He was a tractor driver who died when his tractor fell on top of him, Jane said, pointing at the grave. It looked new: new stone, fresh dug earth, flowers. O my God, he said, how sad. Yes, it is, she said. His wife and children had to leave the tied cottage afterwards. Benedict caught her perfume as she leaned near him. He couldn't identify the flower smell. He couldn’t imagine her wanting him to have *** with her anywhere. Yet, oddly he felt he could with her, but he knew she wouldn't so it was safe to think it. But not like Lizbeth who was gagging for it-to use her expression-, but out of a love feeling, maybe. No, he couldn't imagine Jane doing such. What did you think when that Lizbeth girl brought you here? Jane asked. Thought she was just going to show me around the church; she said she was interested in the architecture, he said. She lies good, Jane said. He nodded. They walked on around the church, walked past other graves, older, moss covered stones. Were you tempted to have *** with her on one of the pews? Jane asked. Of course not, he replied, looking straight at her. Never dawned on me that she'd want such a thing. How could she even suppose you would? Jane said. Because she wanted to, she imagined I must want it, too, he said. But on a church pew? She said, her voice having tones of disbelief. He sighed. I know and when I said people might come in she said serves them right for coming in, he said, trying to recollect her words exactly, but couldn't. Jane opened the small wooden door of the church and they entered. It was cool. The walls were white painted. The windows were painted with religious figures. This is God's house, Jane said, she shouldn't have even thought of such a thing. Benedict looked at the altar end. A small crucifix stood on an altar table with a white cloth on it. He looked at the side pews. He tried to find the one he sat in with Lizbeth and she suggested having *** there. It made him go cold thinking of it. Jane walked to the altar end and sniffed. Incense from Sunday, she said. He smelt it too. He smelt her perfume more. She was close to him now. Her body was inches from his. His body tingled. He knew he loved her. He wanted to say so; wanted to say it loudly to her, but it was the wrong place. He looked at her body encased in the dress. Slim, narrow, her ******* were small, but tight. She was curved. He looked away. He knew he ought not to think of her in that way, least not here. Let's sit and pray, she said, and walked into one of the side pews and sat down. He sat next to her, pushing thoughts of Lizbeth from his mind. Keeping the image of her lifting her skirt and showing him a glimpse of her thigh from his mind. Jane had closed her eyes in prayer. She was a parson's daughter; prayer was natural to her as breathing. He closed his eyes. Smelt her perfume mingled with incense. How did one pray at a time like this? He thought, pushing Lizbeth's thigh from his inner eye.

Hey Kid
Anne says

Benny follows
to where
she calls him

what is it?
he asks

go get my chair

your wheel chair?

yes my wheel chair
what other kind
of chair do I have

ok
he says
and goes off
over the green lawn

passing kids
on the swing and slide

pass the skinny nun
who has just come
whom Anne says
looks like a clarinet
she's so thin

in through
the French windows
passing a girl
who has ****** burns
but who manages
to smile at him

in down the hall
into the girl's dormitory
and takes hold
of Anne's wheel chair
and is just about he
to wheel it out

when Sister Blaise
stops him
where are you going
with that Benny?
she asks

he looks at the nun
with her stern features
and icy blue eyes

it's for Anne
he says

did she ask you
to get it?

he looks at
the crucifix
on the wall
behind the nun's head

no I saw she was
struggling
and thought it best
to bring it to her
he says

taking in
the Crucified's head
leaning to one side
eyes half open
as if He were
looking at him

is that the truth?
the nun asks

he nods
and puts on
his Mr Innocent face

all right off you go
she says
eyeing him
as he wheels the chair
along the passageway

and out through
the French windows
and across the lawn
at full belt

until he comes
to where Anne stands
propped painfully
on her crutches
any problems?
she asks

no
he replies
trying to get
the nun's
icy blue stare
out of his eyes.

On the beach
in the sun
Anne sits

in her chair
her one leg
hanging down

her leg stump
out of sight
she's beside

Skinny kid
who reclines
in a small

blue deckchair
other kids
sit around

fussed over
by three nuns
from the home

the tides out
so some kids
paddle out

ankle deep
listen kid
I hear one

of the nuns
had you in
to question

in secret
what'd they ask?
Anne asks

it's secret
Benny says
I know that

but tell me
I'm your friend
Anne says

Benny looks
around him
about you

they asked me
about you
Benny says

Anne frowns
about me?
Benny nods

what'd they ask?
what you did
what you  said

and did you
make me do
anything

Benny says
what'd you say?
I said you

were my friend
my best friend
Benny says

what'd they say?
Sister Blaise
the fat nun

said it was
a big sin
to tell lies

what'd you say?
Anne asks
I told her

I guess so
was that all?
can I go?

Benny says
Anne smiles
good work Kid

keep the ****
penguins stumped
and things hid.

Ingrid hears
her mother's
cries and moans

in the night
flesh slamming
against flesh

she cringes
wondering
if she'll be

next in line
she is torn
by her fear

should she stay
just in case
her father

doesn't come
or should she
go and see

if her mum
is ok?
her room's dark

a slither
of light comes
from the moon

through curtains
a steam train
goes over

the steel bridge
just over
the roadway

she listens
for more moans
flesh on flesh

thump thump slap
she sits up
on the edge

of her bed
there are sounds
whimpering

then footsteps
in the hall
her father

shouting out
she cringes
she wishes

Benedict
was there now
she wishes

he could be
her young knight
in shining

armour on
his snow white
horse charger

but he's not
he's asleep
in a flat

down the stairs
she hears her
mother's moans

a door slams
then silence
she creeps back

into bed
carrying
Benedict

her young knight
in armour
in her head.

I was on the bomb site
off Arch Street
collecting pieces of wood
and newspaper

-******* in a ball-
and small pieces of coal
liberated from the coal wharf
near by

plus a few Swan Vestas
borrowed from
my old man's box at home
I lit a fire

near the railway arch
and Ingrid said
are you allowed
to do that?

not that I know
I said
what if a policeman
comes?

she asked
I'll just say
it was alight
when I came

and I was
keeping warm
I replied
but that's lying

she said
stretching the truth
a little
I said

she frowned at me
her bruised eye
was on the mend
and was just a slight

memory now
-her old man's
handiwork-
what if you get burnt?

she said
risk of the game
I said
I shouldn't be here

if my dad saw me here
I'd be for it
she said
you're always for it

I said
you've only got to look
at your old man
and he whacks you

I replied
not always
she said
looking away

he slippered you
the other week
for dropping
that bottle of milk

she said nothing
but looked across
the bomb site
at the passing buses

on the New Kent Road
I got out a small tin
and opened it
want a cigarette?

she peered at me
then at the tin
where'd you get those?
she said

I made them
I said
made them?
yes out of dog-ends

I picked up
from the gutters
and borrowing
cigarette papers

from an uncle
I made them up
she pulled a face
but they must have

other people's
spit on them
she said
but the papers

are fresh
I said
and besides
the burning tobacco

gets rid of that
she looked at me
and said
yuk

I put the tin away
and we watched
the fire burning
a Rozzer stopped me

on here the other week
and said to me
did I see you smoking?
I said

no I've not been smoking
I'd flicked the **** end
onto the bomb site
behind me

and he looked
at me suspiciously
and said
better not let me

catch you sonny boy
and he walked off
I'd have wet myself
she said

if a policeman
stopped me
we watched the fire burning
for a few more minutes

then we went across
the bomb site
to the chip-shop
to buy 6d of chips

and stood outside
and shared them
watching the small bomb fire
burning across the way

on that cold
November day.

Lydia
sat on the
red tiled door

step of the
ground floor flat
looking out

at the Square
one morning
one Sunday

her father
was in bed
her mother

preparing
Sunday lunch
listening

to music
on the old
radio

her 15
year old big
sister was

asleep with
her boyfriend
her brother

Hem was out
looking for
spiders

to pull off
their legs
one by one

the man with
his boxer
dog walked by

then she saw
Benedict
in tee shirt

and blue jeans
armed with his
6 shooters

in holsters
wearing a
cowboy hat

where abouts
you going?
She asked him

clean up Dodge
he replied
why? is it

***** then?
She called out
sitting there

in her green
flowered dress
Benedict

walked over
to where she
was sitting

you ok?
He asked her
pushing back

on his head
the black hat
no I'm bored

and fed up
she replied
come with me

we can both
clean up Dodge
Benedict

said to her
so where's Dodge?
She asked him

on the big
bomb site off
Meadow Row

can I have
one of your
6 shooters?

Sure you can
have to tell
my mum where

I'm going
Lydia said
Benedict

nodded his
head and said
best not to

mention Dodge
or she may
not let you

go with me
so she went
indoors and

asked her mum
where will you
be? she asked

we're going
to clean up
Dodge City

who are we?
Benedict
and just me

her mother
stared at her
o I see

mother said
be careful
of the roads

and that was
all she said
carrying

on with the
preparing
of the lunch

Lydia
went off with
Benedict

borrowing
one of his
6 shooters

tucked in the
green bow of
her green dress

her eyes bright
her straight hair
unbrushed

and
quite a mess.

Lydia and I
ride a train
from the Elephant & Castle
to Victoria train station

we love the smell
of the steam train
that takes us there
the white and grey smoke

passes by
the train window
what did your mum say
when you asked

about going to Victoria
with me?
I ask
Lydia says

she looked at me
as if I’d farted
then said
asked your father

so I did and he said
-being sober and in
a good mood-
don't you two go

and elope away
together at least not
until you're 16 years old
and he laughed

and Mum just raised
her eyebrows
and tut-tutted
and Dad said

mind how you go
with that Benny boy
she smiles
and I take in

her straight cut hair
and the dull green dress
and grey cardigan
that's good

I say
I like it
when she's happy
and we get out

at Victoria and walk
along to the nearest seat
and sit down
to watch the steam trains

coming and going
maybe I’ll be
a train driver
when I’m older

I say
to be able to breathe
in the smell
of steam trains

and the sound of trains
and see them
Lydia says
black ones

and blue ones
and green ones
maybe I can be
a train driver too

she adds
do you think so?
yes that'd be good
I say

we can go off
to Scotland
and see the big castle
and see men

in kilts  
she says
we watch
as the steam train

takes off
the power of the train
the puff and shush
and shush

and she takes
my hand
and it's warm
on this little date

us two kids
of 8.

Enid waits for me
at the school gates
after school-
she'd not spoken to me

during playtime recess-
she looks at me
through her
thick lens spectacles  

and I see her lips
are till slightly swollen
sorry about last night
my mum was too

frightened to let me out
to play as my dad
was in one of his moods
she says

how comes you
didn't speak to me
at recess?
I ask

because he'll ask me
when he gets home
if I've been speaking
to you at school today

she says
how will he know
if you speak to me or not?
because he knows

I can't lie to him
he peers at me
and the truth
blurts out of me

I'm too simple to lie
he says
Enid says
what about now

won't he say today
and not mention school?
she bites her lower lip
never thought of that

we walk on together
anyway he won't know
just tell him
a created truth

I say
she looks puzzled
how do I do that?
she asks

just focus
on a bit of truth
and make it
the whole truth

just tell him
no I haven't
spoken to Benny
at school today

I'm not sure I can
she says
it's either that
or another

thumping from him
I say
we go through
to London Road

as I want to show her
the man
in the pie and eel shop
chopping off

the heads of eels
and chopping them
up into small pieces
when we get there

and watch the man
she says
how awful
how can he?

that's his job
I expect he's
used to it now
we walk on

and she says
I'll try and do
as you say
about telling the truth

but he looks
at me so
I feel frightened
and he knows

if I'm telling lies
we go down
the subway
and she is silent

and I feel sorry for her
and the life she has
I'll call for you
after school

and we can go out
I say
no no
she says

don't come around
or Dad'll go mad
I was only joking
I say

of course I wouldn't
least not
while he's there
she looks at me

uncertain
I'll just wait
and if you can
come out

then knock
on my door
and then
we can go out

she nods
and we walk on
and up out
of the subway

and along the New Kent Road
passing the cinema
then home
which isn't far.

Enid's old man
gives me the stare
as we pass
on the stair

I know he's
whacked her
for sure
after the cinema date

and coming back late
but he says nothing
his the silent glare
as if he could scare

I walk on up
and he goes down
that cocky way
he has of

walking away
that Bogart stare
to my Elvis smile
at least for a while

I look down at him
from the balcony
as he crosses
the Square

and off out
of sight to
work or play
as any other day

I wait to be sure
he won't return
then go to Enid's door
and knock and wait

no one comes
all is quiet
no answer
to my knock

so I knock again
and her mother comes
and pokes her head
around the door

and says
what do you want?
how's Enid?
I ask

best go
or her father'll know
and give us
both another blow

I stand my ground
and give her a stare
where is she?
is she ok?

her mother sports
a blackened eye
he might return
she says

he's gone
I watched him go
I say
she sighs

and calls
ENID
and walks past me
to the balcony

and looks over
Enid comes to the door
red eyed
and a swollen lip

can you come out
and play?
I ask
her mother

walks back
to the door
and says
not today

now go away
I lean towards Enid
and kiss her cheek
and touch her hand

see you around Kid
I say
then her mother
closes the door

and reluctantly
I go away.

Mr Finn
was talking
history

Saxon stuff
battlements
and castles

listening
I recalled
the toy fort

that I got
for my 6th
birthday gift

with coloured
lead soldiers
some with swords

some with bows
and arrows
and after

the school day
on the way
home I asked

Janice if
she'd like to
see my fort

you've a fort?
a real fort?
she asked me

as we walked
together
along St

George's Road
it's a toy
fort I got

for my 6th
birthday gift
has it got

a drawbridge?
sure it has
and towers?

5 if you
count the one
over the

drawbridge I
informed her
I'd love to

see your fort
she said so
I took her

to the flat
where I lived
and showed her

the toy fort
and soldiers
and we sat

on the floor
and my mum
brought us drinks

of Tizer
and biscuits
and Janice

said to me
maybe you'd
like to see

my dollies
at my place
Gran likes you

then we can
have a tea
party with

my dollies
I liked her
but going

to a doll's
tea party
how could a

young boy live
that one down
if the boys

on the block
found that out
so I said

maybe one
day I might
when there's not

a moon out
in the night.

Janice was
by the pram
sheds when I

came along
she was flushed
and upset

what is up?
I asked her
I've just seen

a man in
Jail park who
showed me his

whatsit-called
as I walked
along by

the flower
bed and I
didn't know

what to do
Janice said
is he still

there? I asked
I don't know
she replied

let's go see
I told her
I'm not sure

I  want to
go back there
she replied

I'm with you
otherwise
you'll never

go back there
I replied
she was pale

and frightened
don't worry
I've seen his

type before
he'll soon run
when I come

and tell him
I'll cut off
his **** ****

Janice blushed
Benny that's
swearing

what would Gran
say if she
heard those words

Janice said
I won't tell
your grandma

if you don't
I tell her
now let's go

so she comes
with me though
the Square and

across Bath
Terrace and
into the Park

but the man
wasn't there
but he was

inside the
head of poor
Janice and

often dreamed
of him in
nightmares she

used to have
afterwards
she told me.

Helen walked
from her home
to the bomb

site where the
boy Benny
had told her

after school
he would be
off Meadow

Row behind
the old green
grocer's shop

but when she
got there he
was no where

in sight so
she was scared
-after all

tramps often
slept or hid
in the bombed

out buildings-
where was he?
she muttered

what to do?
she looked out
over the

large bomb site
biting her
finger nails

thinking that
maybe a
***** would jump

out at her
then she saw
a figure

come out of
one of the
bombed ruins

she stared hard
panicking
thinking she'd

wet herself
when Benny
waved his hand

and called out
you came then?
-he sometimes

stated the
obvious-
I wondered

where you were
she muttered
he tapped his

6 shooter
silvery
looking toy

gun in his
black holster
on his belt

looking out
for bad guys
he replied

she was glad
it was him
not a *****

want some chips?
he asked her
we can share

I've got coins
sufficient
although she'd

just had tea
she nodded
so they walked

to Neptune's
fish and chip
shop and bought

6d worth
and stood out
side the shop

and shared them
watching life
rushing by

both of them
beneath an
evening sky.

Outside school by the steps
leading down
I wait for Helen
I'd seen her in class

but I want to walk home
with her
as she said
Cogan pulls her hair

if I’m not there
it's dampish
the sky is grey
the sun is weak

I watch other kids
go by down the steps
and off to their homes
then she comes

sees me and smiles
her hair in two plaits
and her thick lens glasses
slightly smeared

thank you
for waiting for me
she says
Cogan said

he was going to pull
my hair and put worms
down my back
well I’m here

so he won't
I say
she looks around her
and we walk off

and down St George's Road
why is he
so horrible to me?
she asks

because he can
or thinks he can
I say
bullies are like that

he said I was a fish face
she says
as we go onward
you're pretty

I say
don't take notice
of him
am I?

she says
really pretty?
of course you are
I say

she smiles
we go under the subway
and I sing so
that my voice

echoes along the walls
she seems happier
join in
I say

I can't I’m too shy
she says
I like her simplicity
her innocent being

we come up
the other side
onto the New Kent Road
and walk by

the Trocadero cinema
what are you doing
after tea?
I ask her

have to see
what Mum says
she says
she may want me

to help her bath
the baby
ok
I say

if you can get out
I’ll be on the bomb site
off Meadow Row
she nods

and I walk her
to her home
and then walk along
Rockingham Street

to Banks house
for some tea
and see Mum
and change

and then off I go
to Meadow Row.

Who was she?
Netanya
asks Benny

who was whom?
Benny asks
sitting in

an armchair
that woman
who has just

dropped you off?
she works in
home and ware

at the store
Benny says
so why'd she

drive you home?
Netanya
enquires

moodily
I don't know
she just asked

if she could
Benny says
I bet she

fancies you
or much worse
I bet you've

been inside
her *******
Netanya says

don't be daft
she's pregnant
Benny says

is it yours?
is that why
she's friendly?

Netanya asks
are you mad?
we just work

together
at the store
Benny says

so you say
but you would
wouldn't you

Netanya says
steely faced
Benny stands

and walks off
into the
back garden

Netanya
follows him
I’m sorry

I should trust
what you say
she tells him

that's ok
he replies
he didn't

know the girl
who gave him
a lift home

a least not
in the sense
Netanya

had implied
so in that
sense Benny
hadn't lied.

At Oslo
at the camp
after a

downpour of
heavy rain
Dalya said

there's a
hole in my
canvas tent

and the rain
comes right in
and the *****

I share with
moans at me
then goes off

and shares with
that Aussie
who she likes

and leaves me
to the wet
you can share

my tent if
you don't mind
as the bloke

I shared with
shares with that
German girl

I thought she
was Polish?
Dalya said

no German
I replied
she told me

her father
drove a tank
in the war

that's why the
Polish girl
and her mum

have nothing
to do with
her in camp

O I see
Dalya said
so she slept

in my tent
but I won't
share your bed

she told me
but what she
later did

-have hot ***-
is not quite
what she said.

I can't now
recall your
first spoken

words to me
probably
mummy or

mum or words
similar
but I can

remember
your last words
that you spoke

back to me
-that Sunday
as I left

that useless
hospital-
you said so

softly -your
breathing bad-
all right or

maybe or
was Ok
after I

said I'd see
you on the
next morning

I didn't
know those would
be your last

spoken words
on parting
2 hours

after that
your heart stopped
the first time

and even
though they got
it going

on the beat
for a while
you never

spoke your words
anymore
just silence

memories
flying round
like dark birds.

Miss Pinkie
and her son
at a bar

and I was
near to them
sitting down

in a chair
and he said
things to her

as he looked
back at me
she told me

he was in
the police force
and married

and said things
back to him
looking back

towards me
and smiling
I think he's

probably
saying to her
he's too young

young enough
to be your
oldest son

and he's right
I am young
enough to

be her son
but what he
doesn't know

or maybe
doesn't want
to know is

I've shafted
his mother
to the music

of Mahler
both of us
well sauced on

Scotch whiskey
sometimes on
her blue couch

other times
on her bed
with moonlight

coming through
her bedroom
wide window

and moon glow
playing on
my naked

rising ***
Miss Pinkie
and her son

return with
all our drinks
and sit down

I watch him
wondering
what he thinks.

After ***
Abela
likes to lie

in the bed
listening
to duets

from that guy
Puccini
-I get us

some coffee
from the small
kitchenette-

isn't it so
romantic?
She asks me

from the bed
sure it is
but what are

they singing
about it's
foreign words

I reply
carrying mugs
to the bed

where she lies
**** naked
invitingly

words are words
it's the sounds
that move me

she tells me
I put mugs
on both sides

of the bed
on small side
cabinets

I climb back
into bed
Puccini's

getting her
in the mood
she eyes me

runs fingers
down my thigh
kisses me

on the lips
on the chin
on the cheek

my pecker
stirs himself
from slumber

not knowing
what hour
day or week.

Yiska slits
her thin wrist
-broken glass

in a bin
in the ward
what a find-

the blood comes
plentiful
beautiful

she reckons
sitting back
in the bath

of water
motherly
and warming

reddening
but a nurse
on duty

looking to
tell Yiska
the doctor

wanted her
finds her there
in the bath

drifting off
and blood soaked
EMERGECY

SUICIDE
the nurse yells
up the ward

-locked up ward
those who are
mentally

unstable
are caged here-
I am in

the main lounge
looking out
the window

snows falling
some robin
perches there

on a branch
Yiska said
earlier

she'd make it
out of here
one way or

the other
there's a rush
of nurses

and a quack
follows up
half way through

-I'm guessing-
his breakfast
there's egg yoke

at the side
of his mouth
poor Yiska

so depressed
no way out
she told me

but I guess
watching the
brave robin

sitting there
that there is
if you look

really hard
to get out
out somewhere.

And Mrs Shepherd said
come up
and see me sometime
-she was no Mae West

but she did her best-
and so I went
to her apartment
and she invited me in

and said
sit on the couch
and I'll get us drinks
so I sat on the couch

and watched her
get two tumblers of scotch
and she had a neat ***
compact body

and fine hair
in a kind of
Clara Bow style
and she came back

to the couch
and sat down
handing me my drink
and she said

how'd you like me?
it was warm afternoon
the sun was strong
and poured itself

on her red carpet
you're fine
I said
she smiled and said

no I meant
how'd you like me to be?
laying out here
on the couch

or the floor
on all fours?
there was a picture
on one wall

of a vase of flowers
sunflowers big and yellow
I'm not sure
what if your hubby comes in

while we're at it?
o don't mind him
he's miles away
she said

put him right out
of your head
so what will it be
me spread here

with class or me
on all fours
and you take my ***?
the scotch was good

nice and smooth
and a dog barked some place
-she was no Mae West
but she did her best.