Judy was in the store
and I found her at the back
filling shelves
and I said

how's it going?
and she said
O so so
not like it was

at school
there
you could have a laugh
here everyone is

O got to keep
the customers happy
got to keep them
coming back

she placed the last
of the tins
on the shelf
and paused

you still get
to sit by our lake?
she said
now and then

I said
not as often
as we did
but I have to work

now too
and time gets eaten up
by the work time
you remember that time

we sneaked there
after school
and it was summer evening
and we sat there

watching the sun go down
through the trees
like a departing actor
after a big scene?

she said
sure I do
I said
and the shadows of birds

going off to sleep
and bats
she said
O how I hated

those things
beginning to flap
about over head
and that time

you kissed my neck
so unexpectedly
that I screamed
and it echoed right

through the woods
like I was being murdered
she smiled
and looked around the store

don’t have a laugh any more
it's all so serious here
the staff
the customers

just wish
it was as it was
maybe we
should meet up again

one evening
by the lake
and see the sunset
as we once did

I said
the store manager
came by
and said something to her

and she picked up
some other tins
and began filling
another self

what's he say?
I asked
the *** said
I wasn't

to waste company time
in idle chitchat
anyway
she said

I'd like to get
to the lake one evening
as we used to
maybe Thursday evening

I looked at her hands
holding the tins
how I once held them
and kissed the fingers

one by one
sure
I said
that will be good

we agreed a time and date
and I left her there
giving the manager
a cool eyed stare.

Milka sat on her bicycle
looking at you
the Saturday morning sun
was warm

you'd just finished work
and had met her
by the bridge
where we going?

she asked
we could leave the bikes
at my place
and go into town

to the cinema
you said
what just sit there
in the dark

and not be able
to see each other
or such?
she said

we could ride
to where I used to live
and see the pond there
where I used to fish?

you said
is it far?
she said
not too far

she pulled a face
can't go to my place
she said
my mother's home

as she usually is
no chance
of being alone
with you there

she said grumpily
mine is no good
at weekends
you said

she looked at you
her eyes gazing
the old pond then
it is

she said
and you began to cycle
with her beside you
back up the hill

and by the farmhouse
where she lived
and along narrow lanes
between hedgerows

and birds flying out
and the occasional
car rushing by
she beside you

talking all the way
about how her mother
moans about her
not doing this or that

or not doing
the chores properly
and how her two brothers
tease her

about going out with you
and how you needed
to see a shrink
and you smile

knowing her brothers well
then you're on the main road
and a mile or so
and you are there

and go in
by the back way
along a narrow lane
and into the woods

behind the cottage
where you used to live
and along the narrow ride
through the woods

to the field
and then the pond
which is peaceful
and the water is still

and a few ducks
swim there
and birds sing
from tall trees

you rest the bikes
against trees
and sit on the grass
by the pond

quiet here
you said
we used to call this
the lake

who's we?
Milka said
my old girlfriend and I
you replied

where is she now?
we don't see
each other any more
you said

Milka said nothing
but gazed at the water
of the pond
at the ducks there

and looked
at the fish
just beneath
the surface

did you make out here?
she asked
now and then
you said

why bring me here?
she said moodily
it's quiet
and we can be alone

you said
is that all?
not wanting relive
old memories with me?

she said
you gazed at her
no of course not
that was a different thing

different love
so you say
she said
should we leave then?

you said
she stared at the pond
at the ducks drifting
and the sunlight

through the branches
of tall trees
no
she said

I like it here
she lay down
on the grass
sunlight on her face

her hands resting
on her abdomen
you lay beside her
did you really

make out here?
now and then
did no one see you?
not that we ever knew

you said
she smiled
risky
what if someone had?

we didn't think of that
at the time
bet you didn't
she said

what was it like
the first time?
it's history
you said

we're what matters now
she nodded
yes I guess we are
she said

and the sun shone bright
through the tall trees
and a bird flew by
over head.

I lie on my back
on the grass
my hands behind
my head

Yehudit is standing
by the lake
-her term
for the pond-
looking over
the water's skin
at the ducks
and dragonflies
skimming the water
and flying off and up

I watch her
standing there
the sun shining down
through the branches
of trees overhead
bird song

I like it here
she says
so peaceful

I take in
her white
and blue flowery dress
the bare legs
the sandalled feet
her hands
behind her back
her hair tied
at the back
by a blue ribbon

do you
like it here?
she asks

yes I like it
in fact I like it
most places

she turns
and looks at me
I mean the scenery
she says smiling

I look at her eyes
the blueness
the flush of cheeks
the smile

how often
do you think
of *** Benny?
she says

pretty much
most of the time
I reply
with a twinkle
in my eye

thought so
she says
shaking her head
and turning away
to gaze at the scene
once more

she thinking
who knows what
but I thinking
of the kissing
and heavy petting
of 10 minutes
before.

She sat down with you
by the pond
the summer heat

and dragonflies
skimming across
the water’s skin

and the odd duck or so
setting down there
and she said

I want to have kids one day
and be a good mother
and make my kids happy

and meet their needs
and not be a moaning mum
like my own

and you looked at her
taking your eyes off
the ducks and dragonflies

and letting them rest
upon her face
and wondered how Rubens

would catch her
or maybe Renoir
and you said

I’m sure you will some day
and they’ll be lucky kids
and maybe you won’t moan

or chide too much
and then silence
as you swam over

her features
her eyes
her nose

her rose kissed cheeks
the way she sat
her elbows on her knees

the summer skirt
showing a little thigh
and she said

pointing to the water
we used to swim in there
when we were young

before mother caught us
with that Barber boy
but it was fun

and innocent
but she never saw things
that way

and then she smiled at you
and you said
wish we could go swim there

like that today
while the sun’s out
and the dragonflies

are skimming
and the ducks are here
but she just shook her head

and laughed
and ducks flew off
but dragonflies stayed

where you sat with her
by the pond
in cool of shade.

Benedict wheeled Anne
out the back gate
of the nursing home.

The sea was calm,
the tide was out.
He pushed her wheelchair
along the path by the beach.

He could smell the salt
in the air, the mild breeze
through his well kempt hair.

She sat with her hands in her lap;
she wore a blue skirt, her one
leg showed from knee down.  

You’re not a very exciting pusher
of wheelchairs are you, she said.
My old gran could push me quicker.

I don’t want you falling out, Benedict said.
Don’t be a ******* ****, Kid,
push me; I want the air in my face,
the wind up my nose, she said,
grabbing the arms of the chair
and shaking them. So he pushed
her quicker, his puny arms giving
it all they could, his legs like frail
pistons moving quickly onward.

That’s it, she bellowed, faster,
faster, Kid, get those lazy legs
of yours ****** moving.  

He pushed harder and gathered
speed, his hands holding on
to the handlebars for dear life.

They had covered a good distance
in a short time and he had to take
a break for breath. What’s a matter
got a puncture? she said. No, he said,
out of breath. Well ****** rest then, Kid.

He turned the wheelchair round
to face the sea. Then stood beside
her looking out at the horizon.
The blue sky, grey clouds, gulls
in the air. This is the life, Kid, she
bellowed This is ******* living.

He said nothing; her language
stung his ears. His mother would
have washed his mouth out
with soap for saying such.

There were people on the sands;
some in deckchairs, some standing
gazing out to sea; kids with buckets
and spades making sand castles,
some swimming, some throwing
a ball to each other. Look at that fat ****
over there with her swimsuit on,
Anne said, pointing to a woman
standing with a man on the sea’s edge,
bet they had to pour her into that,
she added. Benedict said nothing.

He looked down at Anne’s one leg
sticking out of her blue skirt.
She looked up at him. Help me up
and out, she said. He took her hands
and pulled her upwards and she
swayed slightly, but then managed
to stand ***** on her one leg,
the wheelchair behind her.

Should have brought my ******
crutches, she said. Sorry, he said,
didn’t know you wanted to get out.
You’ll just have to hold me up then
won’t you, she said. She put her right
arm around his shoulder and he let go
of her hands. There we go; you can be
my crutch, she said. He could feel her
arm about his shoulder, her weight on him.

You’re a good mate, Kid, she said.
She kissed his cheek. None of those
nursing sister would have wheeled me
out along here not for all the ******
rosaries in Rome, she said. He smiled.

He could feel the damp patch of skin
where her lips had been. They stood
gazing out at the sea together, she swayed
slightly on her one leg, he sensed her
nearness; wanting to be stronger,
he stood firmer, his feet planted deeper
in the sand. Then he sensed her stump
beneath her skirt, rub gently against his hand.

We sit by the small pond
after school

Mother's still out shopping
Yehudit says
so we can sit
and talk awhile

the water's murky
no ducks or fish
in this small place

maybe tadpoles
or old boots
or ******* thrown in

trees surrounding
are still in leaf

no one must know
what we did
and where today
she says

I look at the tin can
lying on the side
of the muddy pond

as if I would
I say

if it got out
my mum'd **** me
she says

what about your dad?
I ask

he would **** me too
if Mum told him
he could

a blackbird settles
on a branch
on my left
black
yellow beak
noisy

but worse than that
what would the other girls say?

lucky you?

no they wouldn't
she says
they'd say what a slapper
what a ****
and there of all places

she's quiet
and stares at the pond

but you're not
we didn't plan it
I say

but we did it
and what if someone saw us
what if a teacher
or prefect came in the gym
lunchtime and saw us?

somewhere to our left
a dog barks
smell of the farm
just over a cow moos

no one did
I say
live what is
not what might have been
or may have happened

she sighs
and looks at me
with her blue eyes

guess so

she looks at the wrist watch
on my wrist

better go
Mum'll be back
on the next bus
she says

we get up
and brush ourselves down
and walk through the woods

it was good though
even if it was
an odd place
I say

odd being
the operative word
she smiles

the fear of someone
coming in
made it seem
more daring
I suggest

daring?
absolutely mad
she says
but yes
it was good

we came to the back
of the cottage
where I lived

shall I walk you home?

no best not
she says
Mum's not struck on you
thinks you might
get me into trouble

I frown
me?
but butter wouldn't melt
in my mouth
I say  

she smiles and walks on
I THINK IT WOULD
she shouts back at me
and walks out of sight

I turn into the garden
and along the path
thinking to myself
she's right.

Your father made you
a sword out of metal
at the place he worked

and brought it home
one night after work
and gave it to you

after tea and said
Be careful how you use it
I don’t want you using it

dangerously
ok
you said

and went off
with the heavy sword
into the spare room

you called the toy room
the place you fought
bad knights to save

damsels in distress  
or have shoot outs
with cowboys

on the wrong side
of the law
and got your gun

out of the holster
before them
and plugged them

full of caps
or the pretend saloon
where you could go

for a shot of red eye
and once you had
the sword with you

you examined it carefully
running a finger along
the blunt blade

and then
you were set upon
by the enemy knights

out of nowhere
three onto one
and you had a sword fight

and being the top guy
you soon had them licked
and lying dead

and you heard your father
call out
from the dining room

Be careful you don’t
**** anyone with that
and you murmured

Too late
I’ve just put them
to the sword

and he laughed
and your mother said
You shouldn’t make him

weapons of death
it gives a false view
of the world

but your father just said
It’s just a toy
just a bit of pretence

and a kid’s got to have
something to use
in his defence

against invisible foes
and then they rowed
and so you shut the door  

and put away the sword
and got out your gun
you could blow away

far more of them
and it was louder
quicker and more fun.

She waited for me
by the water tower
her bike by the hedge
her hands on her hips
her dark hair
hanging loose
untied by ribbons
or bow

I’d finished
my schoolboy work
at the farm
weighting milk
and cleaning out
the cow sheds

been waiting
she said

had to finish my work
I said

you said 1pm
and it's 1.20pm now

she looked at me
with an unhappy face

can't be helped
I said

where we going?
she said
are your parents home?

well my mother is
my father's at work
in the woods
a few miles away

where can we go then?
she said moodily

there's an empty cottage
down the lane
back there
I said

can we get inside?

no it's locked
but there's a shed

she sighed
maybe spiders or such
she said

maybe there are
maybe mice too

yuk don't like them

where to go then?
I said  

she got her bike
and we walked towards
the cottage where I lived

must be some place
we can go
she said

I knew what she was after
and I didn't want to
at least not yet

what about the woods?
she asked
must be a quiet spot there

I guess so
I replied

so we walked up the drive
a muddy drive with trees
on either side and bushes  

wasn't there a hollow tree
up here somewhere?
she said
that one we went to
a few months back?

I looked ahead
I remembered the last time
I took her there
she started to undress
and I told her it might be
unwise in case
some one came along
she wasn't happy that time
I knew she wanted
to have ***

but what if some one
came along?
I said

she had been moody
for hours afterwards

it's up on the left
I said

can we go there?

what for?

you know
we could have ***

I sighed
is that all
you think about?

when I'm with you
she said

what about nature
the trees
birds
butterflies?

what about them?
just because that other girl
you see is a dull cow
doesn't mean I have to be

she's not dull
she's full of knowledge
about nature
and wild life

O big deal
Lizbeth said

I stopped on the drive
looked back
from where we had come from

well where now?

where's the hollow tree?

up further
on the left
I said

so she walked on
and I followed
studying her swaying hips
and black dress
black stockings
and shoes muddied
by the muddy drive

the hollow tree came up
on our left
and she ran up to it
and went inside

I followed her
determined not to
no matter how much
she moaned and tried.

To Elaine
everything seemed large
where others
heard whispers

she heard loud bellowing
and vicious taunts
where others saw
light of day

and brilliant sunshine
she saw darkness
and storms
on the way

and the more she wanted
to hide away
from the world
the more it sought her out

like some black dog
of deep depression
at school she sat
at the front to hear

the teacher better
or at the back
to be unseen
and undisturbed

but then John spoke to her
and lifted the lid
and let in some light
and it seemed less dark

and seemed all right
but she wasn't sure
others had let her down before
pretended to be friends

or friendly then betrayed
or showed true colors
and joined the taunts
and jokes of others

the bell rang
for the end of history
and onward they all
sauntered to the next

dull lesson in little groups
or gangs or on
their own giving
chatter or joke

or idle moan
Elaine walked
just a little behind the rest
one step slowly

following the next
her frumpy being
looking through her glasses
at the passing walled art

or out of windows
showing the outer world
as large as giants
in fairy tales

she used to read
and thought
as she went by
the girl's toilets

the time she had the bleed
(none had told her
of the reason why
or when)

and she had sat there
in the stall
the splash of red
and whirling

of her head
and sat and sat
too frightened to move
until a girl

(one of the few)
knocked and asked
what she was doing?
and she said quietly

through the door
she was dying
or some such doing
she looked away

that girl had taken her
to the school nurse
and saved the day
and said nothing

to the others
as others may
have done
just for a laugh

or fun
she looked down
at her black
scuffed shoes

at the wooden floor
at the moving feet
just ahead
then he touched her arm

in passing
John on his way
to boring maths
he said

and smiled
and was gone
but she carried
his smile

and words
inside her head
like caged
wild birds.

She's outside
the nurse said
getting
some sunshine

doctor's orders
so I went out
through the double doors
into the grassy area

outside the ward
Julie was sitting
in a chair
smoking

in a dressing gown
her hair pulled tight
in ponytail
getting some sunshine

I said
yes
got to be
a good girl

she said
get some sun
to my skin
I sat in a chair

beside her
took out
a cigarette
and lit up

how's it going?
I asked
cold and fed up
and wanting a fix

she said
but all I get
is a cigarette
and all this

get some sun
and fresh air stuff
she crossed her legs
her feet were naked

she'd painted
her nails red
I brought you
some cigarettes

and chocolate
I said
and laid them
on the small

white table
by her legs
thanks
she said

wish we could meet
at that cheap
hotel again
I fancy some ***

she inhaled deeply
and looked back
at the doors
of the ward

maybe next month
if they let you out
I said
they say I can't

go out
until I’ve kicked
the fix habit
she said

turning round
and gazing at me
hope they've fixed
the taps this time

she said
confused me
to turn on
the cold tap

to get hot
I smiled
she uncrossed her legs
and I saw

a glimpse of thigh
which hung and stayed
in the camera
of my eye.

I used to be a dancer
during World War 1
your paternal grandmother said

as she sat next to you
on the seat in her
back garden in London

and your grandfather
would come and watch
with his army friends

and afterwards
he’d come
to the stage door

with flowers or chocolates
or just stand there
with that awestruck look

on his face
and she looked
at the flowers

that your grandfather grew
along both sides
of the garden

and she smiled and said
Look at him now
sits in the same room

and says nothing
or moans about the bills
or how the country is run

or the noise of the traffic
by the front gate
and you sat there

on the seat
in the back garden
in your new suit

and with your hair
cropped short
and that fifteen year old

I’m bored as hell look
on your face and you said
Why did you give up dancing

you must have been good at it?
and as you looked
at your grandmother  

with her white frizzy hair
and stocky build
you couldn’t imagine her

as a dancer on a stage
with men gawping at her
especially not your soft spoken

quiet grandfather
who sat in his armchair
by the fireside

in a silent mood
occasionally reading a book
or giving that

I’ve seen too much
of mankind’s foolery
kind of look

and your grandmother said
Well after we got married
I fell for your uncle Fred

and beside I wasn’t that good
a dancer and your
grandfather didn’t want

a wife of his
to be peered at
or have her legs

gawked at
by other men
and then she was silent

and watched
a white butterfly
go by

fluttering its wings
but
she said softly

getting up
from the seat
and doing a small

Can Can dance
the shows not over
until the fat lady sings.

I know as soon
as I see Dalya
that she's in
a foul mood;
we're both heading
for the shower block
across the camp
walking past
tents and grass.

How'd you sleep?
I ask.

Don't ask.

I already have;
bad night?

She looks at me
moodily.

That ****** Yank girl;
if I could get away
with suffocating her
in her sleep, I would.

Bad as that, huh?

Yes, bad as that
and worse.

What happened?

She happened;
I have to share a tent
with her because
no one else will.

I'm sure
the Aussie guy would.

Well apart from him;
I am stuck with her.

We walk past
the camp café and bar;
it's full already.

What's the matter
with her?
she seems jovial enough.

She too **** jovial
and how many men
she's had
is no one's business
and I have to hear
the long line of names
and what not
as I’m trying to sleep
and it's:
and he was a serious thinker;
he had this apartment
in L.A and O boy
could he go it some...
and all that
kind of thing
and it makes me
want to put
the **** pillow
over her head
and keep it there
until she's silent.

We reach the shower block
and we wait outside.

You can always
share with me;
I’m sure the Aussie guy
won't mind;
he can go share
with Miss Yank 1974.

I want more sleep
not less,
she says,
smiling for the first time.

I can only offer.

I'll think about it
under a hot shower blast.

And she walks off
into the female door
and I walk to the male's.

I know she won't,
but the thought is there
reaching out
even if I
can't get there.

Ingrid sports a black eye;
she looks like a panda.

She said she walked
into a door;
she doesn't lie
convincingly.

I know her old man;
I passed him
on the stairs of the flats;
his beady eyes
drinking me in,
giving me the cold glare,
the cold shoulder.

We walk through the Square,
off to the shops.

What happened to your eye?
I ask again,
studying the black
and slightly green;
walking beside her,
passing the milkman
and his horse drawn cart,
the horse wearing
a nosebag of food,
ignoring us.

I walked into
the bedroom door,
she says,
knowing I don't
believe her,
looking sheepish,
knowing
I guess the truth.

What have you got
to get at the shops?
I ask.

She shows me a list
on a scrap of paper,
pencil scribbled,
in her small right hand
a handful of coins.

I passed your old man
on the stairs yesterday,
I tell her,
gave him my
Wyatt Earp stare,  
I say, he didn't care.

I note her hair
is unbrushed,
her green patterned dress
unwashed.

We cross Rockingham Street
into Harper Road.

I talked too much,
Dad said,
she confesses,
he said I yak and yak.

We pass the paper shop
and go on
to the grocer shop.

I say,
if I had your old man
in the sights
of my six-shooter gun
I'd fire a cap
up his ***;
she sniggers;
people stare at us
as we pass.

Of course
it will happen
one day
Lizbeth says
it will happen

I lay the borrowed bike
against the hedge
and so does she
hers is red and silvery

we walk up
the narrow lane
to the hollow tree
and we climb in
and it's like a small house
inside but small
and snug

I like it here
she says
last time we came
I thought we'd do it here
but we didn't
and I so much
wanted to
even though
it's not very
comfortable or big

what's the rush?
I ask

she sits on a small ledge
hands in her lap

never know
how long
you've got
might not make 16
might be pushing up
daisies by then
she says

I look out
of the hole
in the hollow tree
at the surrounding
woods and trees
and hedges
bird song and such

come sit down
next to me
she says
I won't bite
well not
straight away

in this book
I’ve got
this woman
is kissing
this man's
what’s-it

I look at her
she's drawing her
dress up
from her knees

why do you
read that book?

why not?

she taps
the small space
beside her
sit for a while
I promise not
to do anything to you

I sit beside her
the space is cramped
and there is a smell
of sap or rotten wood
plus the perfume
she's drowned
herself in

you smell
of farms and cows
she says

I was working there
for a while earlier

smells like it
she says smiling
but I don't mind
as long as you're here
next to me
elbow to elbow
thigh to thigh

and as I turn
my head away
a small bird
flies past
the hole
catching my eye.

Even when Jodrig
fails to show

for the promised date
or comes

on the wrong day
or comes too late

Tibbles never
lets her down

he comforts
with his rough tongue

on her smooth thigh
or gazes at her

with his one good
and one closed eye

or purrs her
to happiness

even if her life’s a mess
or she depressed

he seems to know
the time to snuggle

his head against
her breast

or simply lay his paw
upon her open jaw

but when Jodrig
gets it right

and stays the night
for nightcap

or night love
then snores to sleep

Tibbles moves between
he and she

and snuggles down
where he’s meant to be.

Cedric approached you
in the playground and said
My sister Christina

wants to see you
on the playing field lunchtime
and he said it

in a quiet voice
as if he didn’t want
the other boys to hear

he ran messages for girls
and off he went
to play with some other boys

leaving you to stare out
onto the empty playing field
and so lunch time

after you’d eaten dinner
you went onto the playing field
beneath the summer sun

and there she was
over by the wire fence
waiting for you

and you said
Cedric said you wanted to see me
and she said

Yes do you mind
if we walk off alone together
I don’t want other’s ears

to move in on our conversation
No sure
you said

Let’s go over by the woods
by the far fence
and so you walked off with her

across the playing field
by other kids who were playing
football or sitting talking

or playing skip rope
or whatever
and when you came

to the woods
you sat down with her
and she said

You do love me
don’t you?
I mean you’re not

seeing anyone else?
You looked across
the playing field

to where you’d sat
with another
some months before

and she had asked
the same question
but since then

it had turned
momentarily sour
Yes and no

you said
looking back at her
taking in her dark hair

and deep eyes
and how her hand
lay on her thigh

covered by grey skirt
and her naked knees
just visible

to the eye
What do you mean
yes and no?

she asked
you watched
her lips move

and replied
Yes I love you
and no I’m not

seeing another
and she smiled at you
and put her hand on yours

and waited for a kiss
and so you did
her lips on yours

out by the woods
on that summer day
out of doors.

You walk along the beach with the sand between and beneath your naked toes, the sun touching your skin, the slight breeze feeling your hair. You stop and stare at the sea, the sound of the waves on the shore, like an old man breathing and sighing. There are no ships today; the horizon is bare; empty. You remember walking along this beach with Giles, his hand in yours, the promises he made, the laughs you both had, the look in his eyes, that smile he had. You smile briefly, wipe your small hand across your lips, try to recall that kiss, gone. The sun is high in the sky, blue with hints of white in the horizon, the sea, the far off places long out of reach. If only I hadn’t found that **** letter, you muse darkly, breathing deeply, sensing the sea air, the sharpness of it, the chill on the lungs, if only you hadn’t seen the words of his betrayal, his words of love to another, her of all people, she who had befriended you. Lies. All of those lies, you muse, those bits of truth and lies together, the devil’s mix, the lying *****, him saying those things to her, and to you he says another, liars both of them. You walk on along the deserted beach, your toes scrunching into the sand, the grittiness between the toes, the sharpness underfoot. We made love over there, you tell yourself, indicating an area of rocks, a secret place you thought was yours and his, where he had uncovered you and under those stars, moon and evening breeze, had entered you. You close your eyes and wonder if he brought her here, made love to her in that place, did to her what he did to you. The possibility haunts you, hurts deeply, drives to walk closer to the edge of the sea and shore. You want the sea to take you; want the waves to swallow you up and spit you up some miles down the coast. A lifeless body, a floating bloated cadaver. But that takes a courage you lack, a courage you do not have, despite your hurt and pain, despite your inner anger. You wish you had not read the letter from his pocket, had not searched, had not seen it and opened up the envelope. If only you had remained in innocence of his betrayal, innocent of all that filth and lies. His words to you that morning, as he rose from bed, as his arms left your side, were so loving, so kind. Ceili, he said, Ceili, you are the morning of my day. Such words. Such words said. The sun is warm on your face, the breeze a little chillier now, the sea a bit wilder, the waves touching your feet, touching your toes. What price betrayal? What reward? You wander along the shore, the sea touching you as he had done, feeling your flesh, sensing your life blood, you stop, turn back, empty your mind, vacate, the you, the memory of loss, the life of betrayal.

He is her first love,
the love which makes
her want to open her
arms to the early day,

hear bird song, wash
in the cold water the
maid brings, breaking
the ice, her hand scooping

up the coldness to her
face, and the o yes this
is it, feel, in her. Before
him there were only dull

mornings, icy ablutions,
boring birds singing, and
her father lecturing at
the morning table about

the horses or the birds
for the shoot or how well
his dogs hunt. This first love,
this exciting explosion,

this wanting to run through
the fields undressed and
sing loudly, this new born,
fresh as a lamb kind of love,

this tingling through the veins
and nerves feeling, this is
what the poet’s name love,
their words ticking off the

virtues, their voices calling
across shires, hills and seas.
She wants him to come,
wants his arms about her,

his lips on hers, she thinks of
him each moment of her day,
senses him in each touch her
body feels, in each smell of air.

She wants him there. Before him
there was just the routine of daily
visits to the poor of the parish
with he mother’s gossip, picking

of flowers, the dull witted wit of
her tiresome brothers, before this
first love she almost drowned in
the daily drudge, but now she feels

each second’s tick, each moment’s
*****, the over feel of air and breath
and him maybe being there to watch
her dress (unseen of course) and

all the little things that first love brings.
The maid helps her dress, buttons
up at the back, brushes the hair, o
o she wishes it were the first love

there unbuttoning her dress and
making her neatly done hair in a mess.

Enid told me
about the chair.
Just an ordinary
chair; wooden chair

with open spaces
at the back. Made
marks on her back
where he'd made her

sit so long and where
she leaned back. So
what did your old man
keep you in the chair

for so long for? I asked
as we stood by the metal
green painted fence
surrounding the grass

outside Banks House.
Cross examination,
she said, looking away
from me, her eyes behind

her thick lens glasses
gazing at the fresh fish
shop across the road.
What was he cross

examining you about?
Someone took money
from the money teapot:
15/- it was, so he said.

And he thought you
took it? She nodded
her head. Wasn't me,
I never took it. Who

did? No idea; my big
brother maybe, he
needs it, not me. I
looked at her standing

beside me by the fence,
our feet on the space
of pavement. Did he
hurt you? She bit her

lower lip. He kept me
in the chair. He said
he was keeping me in
the chair until I owned up.

And did you? I didn't take
the money. I thought he'd
give up once he realized
I never took the money

and let me go, but he
didn't, he walked around
me, hands behind his back,
asking me questions. And

where was your mother in
all this? She sat on the sofa
chewing on her handkerchief
saying: tell him the truth

Enid, tell him the truth.
Enid sat by the fence,
hands each side of her.  
So what happened? I asked,

looking for signs of bruises
and such. He walked round
me and said: I'm not letting
you go until you tell the truth.

I said I didn't take the money.
He clouted me about the head
after ten minutes. You'll not
get off this time, he said.

My head spun. My mum
left the room. He told her
go get some tea on. I looked
at him, but only as he passed

in front of me, not all the
way round so sometimes he  
was out of sight and I didn't
know what he was going to

do next. He hurt you after that?
I asked. He dragged me off
the chair and sat down himself
and gripped my wrist tight.

He made me stand there for
ages, him griping my wrist,
talking, talking. My legs ached.
Wanted to sit on the chair. She

was silent; looked at the fresh
fish shop. Then he dragged me
over, and hit me until I said
I had the money. And did you?

I asked. I knew she had.
The face told me. The eyes
behind her thick lens glasses
told me. She nodded, looked

away. A horse drawn coal
wagon went by along
Rockingham Street, the coal
man sitting on the sack cloth

seat dour faced. How about
some chips from Neptune's?
I said, looking at her, at her
grey faded flower dress and

the dull green cardigan, her
hair pinned back by two metal  
hair grips at the side. I didn't
have it, didn't have the money,

she said, just said it because
of him hurting me. I know,
I said, don't talk of it again.
She nodded and we walked

up Meadow Row, in the slow
beginning coming down rain.

Chana had a bike
and I had a scooter
she moaned a lot

and I did not
she wore clothes
her mother said

she had to wear
I wore
what was left to wear

from the day before
she loved sweets
and ice lollies

I loved licorice sticks
and sarsaparilla
she  hated vegetables

and meat pies
I hated liver
and fish with eyes

she said
why don't you
go play elsewhere

and leave
my brother to me?
go ask your brother

I said
and then we'll see
he said not her but me

so Chana went off
in a huff
riding her bike

like a bat
from Hell
Chana

was my best friend's
sister not
(thank God) my girl.

Chana, having made love
with young Baruch, went
to get more wine. Did she
need to get another? She

thought, she was old enough
to be his mother. The LP of
Bruckner he had brought
still played on the hifi; she

preferred Mahler’s fifth.
The kitchen light had a
mellow glow. She poured
more wine into the two

glasses and returned to
the bed. He was laid there
like some young prince,
proud and youthful, head

full of ideas, morals gone
to the wind, seemed happy
to have had her and sinned.
She put down the glasses

and climbed into bed. Him
and his Marxism, she thought
as he talked of Das Kapital.
She placed her hand on his

pecker, life enough yet,
stirred, moved. She could
smell the *** in him; the stir
of a young stallion. Her long

ago husband was never like
this even in his youth; she
was well rid of him, him and
those airhostesses, those

whom he said he had quite oft
and where. She smiled at young
Buruch lying there wine in hand
talking of a revolution that would

never come, his pecker stirring,
his words becoming slurred with
the taking of wine. That first time
he had her on the sofa; oh, that

took her back some. He drained
his glass, put on the side. He was
young enough to be her son, she
mused, watching him stir and

prepare, her young stallion with
hazel eyes and dark brown hair.

Janice( wearing a lime
flowered dress
and white socks)

met me by the iron bridge
to go to chapel
I didn't often

go to chapel
sometimes
I went to the other church

or the tabernacle
or not at all
but she wanted to go

so I said
I’d go along
and sing a few hymns

and see the old dame
plonking on the piano
out of tune

and some old guy
singing
like a bullfrog

out of water
Gran said
I’m not to get

my new dress *****
and not to go
on the bomb sites

or play in the park
or I’m for it
just chapel

and home again
she sounded disappointed
I thought of going

to the bomb site
off Meadow Row
to get small stones

for my catapult
but I didn’t want
to get her

into trouble
ok let's get
to chapel

and have a sing-along
I like your blazer
is it new?

yes my Mum
bought it for me
for Sundays

and special occasions
I also have these
new grey flannel trousers

and white shirt
and tie
we walked on

by the public house
and along
to the small chapel

she was thinking
of her new lime
flowered dress

and what the chapel goers
might think and say
I was thinking

of how many cans
I could hit
with my new catapult

tucked inside
my blazer pocket
touching it lightly

with my fingers
as we walked along
hearing

as we entered
the chapel
a dreary song.

I seem to have inherited
your Che Guevara tee shirt,
red and black,
with the huge
Legends lettering
and portrait,
black on red.

Washed and folded,
I gave it a squeeze,
and held it to my chest
(wanting you back,
my son, and all the rest).

Sometimes I think
we shared the same heroes,
similar, more similar
than I ever thought before,
reflected in the tee shirts
you bought and wore.

I am still making
my way through
your Augusten
Burroughs books,
the humour, insight
and images raised,
have humoured me
at a time I need,
from dark thoughts,
guilts, on my time
and mind, like maggots
they have fed and feed.

I did think
I would talk to you
the following day,
before the coma,
the silence of you
contrasting the ever
sounding machines,
the dials, the lights,
and that, and other
images, keep me
from sleep at nights,
(hence the need
of the sleep
inducing pill).

I seem to have inherited
the black and red
Che Guevara tee shirt
you used to wear,
and when I hold it
against my cheek,
I imagine,
for short moments,
that you are
still there.

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.

Your eyes, the windows into your soul,
Look dark and frightened as you stare
Out the window of the bus, which
Seems to be going nowhere you know,
And you carry in your mind’s eye
The image of the crucified man nailed
To a door in a village, some hours back.

Another you saw in the local church
Hung up high above your head,
His plaster figure nailed to wood,
His features chiseled into the guise
Of pain, but you never looked again,
You always turned your face away,
Until today, when the other was hung
A few feet from the ground with
Rusty nails, with distant sounds of
Gunfire filling the wet noon air.

The bus pauses, you look out to see
If another may be hanging from some
other tree, or if some one will bring
back your father from the men who led
him away, so you may see him smile again
Through the window and downpour of rain.

Yiska sits
in the bath
off the ward

no water
just sits there
all depressed
**** naked

scars on wrists
suicide
reminders

I stand there
by the door
never locked
the bathroom
on the high
risk locked ward

didn't know
you were here
I tell her

she looks up
you do now
but who cares
what’s to see
you've not seen
she mutters
got a smoke?

I give her
my packet
of French smokes

she takes one
I light it
and light one
for myself

we inhale
in silence
her pink scars
like medals
on her wrists

her small *******
hang lonely
her *** bush
between thighs
visible

you best go
she tells me
just in case
the nurses
come along

you OK?

I'll be fine
she replies

OK then
hold in there
I tell her
walking off

I don't mind
that you're here
she whispers
we're soul mates
on death's ship
on rough seas
drowning deep

I go in
and kiss her
on the arm
then return
to the ward
of chill dawn
waiting for
my new life
to be born.

Come up and see me
Sometime, May West said.
And Chimanski could
Not get the words out

Of his head, they’d buzz
Around like blow flies
In a shut up room;
And he imagined

Her upstairs in bed,
Laying there, ready
And waiting, looking
Like she did in her

Prime, as in the small
Photographs he had
Of her tucked away,
Out of his wife’s scan,

Especially the
One hidden away
In his black wallet,
Behind the dull doomed

Photo of his wife;
And sipping from his
Beer and looking up
At the white ceiling,

He listened for footsteps
In his room; the sound
Of the mattress touched,
The sound of his name

Being called, not by
Mae, but by her poor
Understudy, his
Fifteen stone wife

Fay whom he signed and
Contracted for life.

Christina, dressed in her grey school jumper,
grey skirt, white blouse and green tie,
met Benedict by the wire fence,
which separated the playground
from the sports field.  She looked excited
as he approached, he walked
his Robert Mitchum style walk,
met her with a smile, a scanning gaze,
taking in her eyes and hair and legs
and hands folded, standing there.

Guess what, she said, I've got an
Elvis Presley LP. Benedict nodded
and listened while she spoke.

Her mother had bought it for her
while in a good mood( she suffered
depression), though her father
didn't approve, he allowed her
to play on the new Hi-Fi.

Maybe you can come hear sometime,
she said, the when and how were
not discussed, she living in the town
and he some miles on a bus route away,
but maybe, he said, someday.

They walked up the field,
the other kids enjoying
the midday recess in the bright sun
and cloudless sky, her hand
gripping his, he taking in
her soft speaking and hips sway.

She conversed on the boring maths
she'd had, the domestic science
where she'd burnt her cake, who'd
eat it anyway, for Christ-sake,
she added, giving him her eyes
to drink, her words to hold and think.

He spoke in turn of geography
and woodwork where he began a stool,
thanking her for her photo she'd given
him to keep, tuck between his favourite
book at home, taking out to scan
and treasure, now and then( such
is the way of boys and men).

She spoke of love, the feelings touched,
the mind excited, her dreams of him,
talking in her sleep( her mother said).

He stared out at the other kids at play
or wandering in talk or playing ball
or skipping-rope, a teacher spying as
he crossed the grass, hands behind his back.

She leaned in close and kissed his cheek,
he turned and kissed her lips
to smother any further words.

Someone laughed out loud,
across the field, disturbing birds.

All through science she has thought about him, scribbling his name on the palm of her hand, doodling his name on the inside cover of her exercise book. The teacher rattles on about chemicals, about combinations, of numbers, but Christina isn't listening, she's gazing out the window at the sports field over the way, there where she and Benedict go some lunch times if it's fine and she's not stuck in the girls playground watching other girls play at skip rope or other childish games or chatter. The weather looks fine, the sky blue, clouds sparse. Good. Be out there. He will be there, too. Miss him when he's not about. A piece of chalk whizzes by her head and the teacher calls her  name and to concentrate and not daydream. She turns to the front and picks up her pen and takes down the writing on the board. The teacher scowls, eyes like hawk's. She saw him at morning break in passing by the tuck shop. He gazed at her. Sent tingles through her. Watched until he was out of sight. She scribbles in the exercise book, writes down the script on the board. Last night she dreamed of him. Had his photo under her pillow. Her head inches away from him. She pretended he had come to her room at midnight(the parents were downstairs still) and stood by the door looking at her. She told him to come closer and he came and sat on her bed. Seemed so real. Mere inches away. Hand near mine, pretended to touch. The teacher talks on boringly, she writes faster. The other kids seem to focus, make effort, look up, write down. At breakfast her mother was in a mood. Dark mood day. Moaned about state of my bedroom. Clothes everywhere, she said, books, paper, I won't have it. Christina puts down her pen. Inky fingers, pen leaks. ****. She wipes on a tissue, rubs away. Still stained. The other day she held Benedict's hand palm upward and read his lines. Wanted to see how many children he'd have or his wife. Couldn't decide. Wasn't sure. She liked his hand in hers, his fingers, the smoothness, the skin on skin thing. They kissed briefly, other kids were watching, making silly sounds, comments. She thinks her twin brother says things about her to their mother, not out of spite or telltale, but innocently in chatter over the dinner table or by way of idle talk. Her mother invited Benedict to lunch one school day. Studied him, questioned him. One of her black mood days. She managed to take him to her room for a few moments while her mother was out and showed him her bed and her doll collection and such and kissed quickly until they heard her mother's return. The lesson will soon be over. She cannot wait. Bored titless. She closes her exercise book and puts the cap on her pen and stares at the teacher as she finishes her talk. Her big brother has books under his bed. She saw one the other week while looking for his record player to borrow. Magazines of naked women. Piles stacked neatly. She removed one and opened the pages. She stopped at a page where a woman was kneeling dog like. A man was there ,too. She blushed, closed the magazine, shoved it back under the bed and went out of the room and to her own room. What the hell was that all about? She tried to push it from her mind. Her big brother had touched her in her room and she said nothing. The magazines were still there, she supposes, watching the teacher answer questions of those who were interested or pretended they were to get in the teacher's good books.  Hands rose in the air by those with questions of science. Christina ponders a question:  why do some women kneel dog like? She doesn't ask. Imagines the teacher's face, giggles from other kids. Best not to. The biology teacher was best to ask. But he will probably blush. So would she. She wishes time would fly. The sky is still blue. Clouds drift lazily. Her big brother lifted her skirt under the dinning room table and touched her leg. She said nothing, but stiffened, he smiled. Mother moaned about my untidy room, the ***** clothes under the bed, put in the wash basket, she went on. A bell rings from the passage, lesson over, thank God, she thinks, shoving her books in her bag. She goes to the washroom and enters a cubicle. The fingers are still ink stained. Benedict's name is written small there on her palm. She kisses her palm. She remembers the first time she saw him. He was new to the school, came just before Christmas. He stood in the assembly hall in a year above hers. His sister was in her class. They talked about him. She introduced him to her one lunch time on the sports field. They talked shyly, sat near, didn't touch, uneasy the first time. She left the cubicle, washed her hands, scrubbed her fingers with the white soap. Cleaner, still slightly stained. Try again later. She leaves the wash room and goes along the passage  hoping to see him. Crowds of kids pass by. A boy and girl by the gym door smooch, his hand on her thigh, her hand on his neck. But no Benedict. She stares about her. No. Not about. She moves towards the next lesson, maths, double, time passes, boring, wants to see him. The bell rings, next lesson, his sister walks beside her, not him, o if it was him, if only.  The passageway is dull, her life seems dim.

Christina was with friends
schoolgirls like her
and she saw me

coming across
the sports field
she left them

and met me
and I heard them
cackle like hens

I’d turned down
Reynard's game
of football

to be there
what's tickling
their fancy?

I asked
nodding
towards the girls

on the field
O you know
what girls are like

any juicy bit
of gossip
to bite on

what gossip is that?
about the gym
and us the other day

she said
and that prefect
turfing us out

O that
I said
looking at her eyes

seeing worlds there
I wish I was in your year
she said

then I
would be leaving school
this year

instead of next
shouldn't wish
your life away

or before you know it
you'll be an old lady
with grey hair

and wrinkles
God forbid
she said smiling

we walked up
the field together
she talked

of her parent's rowing
and her mother's moods
and how her big brother

had  done things
but then she broke off
and talked

of the girl in her class
who thought
she was dying

because she had
started to bleed
during P.E

we got to fence
which separated
the field from the road

where cars and lorries
were going by
she looked back

at the field
we don't get
enough time together

she said
you being
in a village

miles away
and I living
in this boring town

at least we do
see each other
I said

not enough
of each other though
she said

her lips stopped
and parted slightly
I gazed at her

for a few moments
taking in her eyes
and lips

that kiss
in the gym
she said

that could have
led somewhere
could it?

I said
yes it may
she said

BENNY
someone called my name
across the field

who the heck is that?
she said
my mate Reynard

I said
what's he want?
football game I expect

you're not going
to play football
are you?

she said
I waved away Rolland
indicating I wasn't playing

and he ran off
with other boys
towards the goals

on the other end
of the field
she looked at the boys

kicking a ball around
never understand boys
she said

what do they see
in kicking a ball about?
never mind them

I said
we have limited
time together

she nodded
and she looked back
at the field seeing

who was nearby
and who was who
then she came

close to me
and kissed me
her lips warm

and wet
skin on skin
tongues touched

a fire like sense
raced along
my nerves

I closed my eyes
and so did she
and we were

in places
and positions
in our minds

where
we wanted
to be.

As you went by
the girl’s playground
after getting off

the school bus
Christina called to you
through the wire fence

and said
my mother said
you can come home

for lunch today
if you like
ok

you said
where shall I meet you?
Cedric will bring you along

she said
and so when
the lunch time

recess bell rang
you followed Cedric
out of the school

and saw Christina
by the outer fence waiting
are you sure

your mother doesn’t mind?
you asked
of course not

she said
Cedric walked on in front
leaving you and Christiana

to walk on behind
she talked about some girl
in her class who had a boyfriend

and claimed
to have had ***
and then she went on

about the teacher
who had been expelled
for taking pupils home

in his lunch hour
it was boys though
she added

and then you came
to her house
and she took you in

and there was her mother
in the kitchen
nice to meet you

she said
Christina has talked
about you so much

Cedric behind
his mother’s back
was making gagging gestures

with his fingers
down his throat
Christina looked at you

and smiled
nice to be here
you said

are you sure it’s all right
me coming?
of course it is

Christina’s mother said
now sit down
and I’ll serve up for us all

and so you all sat down
around the table
and Cedric looked at you

then looked down
at his knife and fork
and Christina said

glad you’re here
and she put a hand
over yours

and gave your hand
a squeeze
then removed it

when her mother
set down the plates
and then sat down herself

and you all began to eat
in an unusual silence
Christina giving you

a bright eyed stare
and Cedric looking
over your shoulder

as if you weren’t there
after lunch their mother
cleared the table

of plates and went off
and Cedric went
into the lounge

leaving you and Christina alone
what do you think?
she asked

about what?
you asked
my mother

what do you think of her?
she seems nice
you said

she gets depressed a lot
Christina said
but today

she was at her best
oh right
you said

sorry she gets depressed
come on
Christina said

I’ll show you my room
you raised your eyebrows
won’t your mother mind?

you asked
not if she doesn’t know
Christina replied

isn’t it a bit risky?
you said
yes

she said
that’s what makes life
so interesting

so you followed her
and tiptoed up the stairs
and she showed you

her bedroom
and her favourite doll
and other favourites of hers

lined along her bed
then she kissed you quickly
and then stood back

and smiled and said
best go down now
or she’ll wonder

where we are
and so that was it
and as you followed her

down the stairs
you could hear the radio
playing some classical music

and her mother
humming along
and sounding quite happy

and Christina giving you
another kiss
behind her mother’s back

and after saying thank you
to her mother
you all left

to return to school
the clouds promising rain
and so back to school

and the boring lessons
once again.

Christina sat
on the playing field
with a small group of friends
their laughter

giggling over
towards you
as you made your way
to see her after lunch

in recess
when she saw you coming
she got up
brushed down

her green skirt
and white blouse
open at the neck
revealing a hint

of small *******
and walked towards you
leaving a chatter
of voices behind her

she swaying her hips
as she’d seen
in some black
and white movie

some dame do
and when she got to you
she stood gazing at you
her eyes feeding

on what she saw
how’s it going?
you asked
all right

she replied
her fingers fidgeting
in front of her
let’s go over

by the fence
you said
away from ears
and eyes

sure
she said
and walked beside you
as you walked

her hand
hanging loose beside her
near touching yours
the skin brushing

against each
as you walked
she talked
of the boring maths lesson

and old Parrot
giving it all that
she gestured
a beak

with the fingers
of her hand
her other hand
taking hold of yours

you sensing her hand
warming into yours
sensual
radiating feelings

old and new
down your spine
and nerves
she laughed

when you told
of how Parrot
threw chalk at you
in class for talking

and how you caught
the chalk
and handed it back to him
and all the time

you took in
her face
her eyes
the line

of her jaw
her lips
like small bubbles
of flesh waiting

to be pressed
into service
and at the back
of your mind

Reynard’s words
about her back
in class during science
when the teacher

showed a picture
of some erupting volcano
and Reynard said
she’d like that inside her

that bit you see
at recess
but there beside her
all you wanted

was to place the kiss
the lips waiting
your heart racing
and she

by the fence leaning
gazing at you
the bright eyes
still feeding

her lips opening
and closing
as words came
and left

and you leaned in close
and sealed them
with yours
and all seemed silent

about you
in that great
wild
out of doors.

I saw you and that girl
behind the maths block
Reynard said
we were playing ball

and there you were
caught out
the corner of my eye
and as he spoke

you watched Parrot
writing something
on the blackboard
his curly haired head

moving side to side
as he wrote
and you could see
in your mind’s eye

Christina leaning
against the fence
behind the maths block
her eyes lit up

with a young girl’s passion
and you leaning in
towards her
wanting to kiss her

wanting to feel
her lips on yours
but she kept on talking
her lips opening

and closing
like a fish out of water
and her hands placed
over her groin like guards

and she said she wanted
a photo of you  
to pin
to her bedroom wall

and you said you’d
seek one out for her
and she said
she had one

of herself for you
and then she spoke
of her parents
and her mother’s

depression
and about her older brother
which was lost
in the whisper

of her words
and on and on
she went
and all you wanted

was to feel her lips
on yours
in the few moments
you had alone with her

and even though
you leaned in closer
she talked on
and on

her breath warm
and almost liquidy
against your face
her eyes

like small mirrors
dark and sinkable
and just as
she became silent

and you felt it time
for the kiss to come
the bell rang
and she up

and moved
and touched your hand
and left and you caught
a quick glimpse

of her thigh
as she moved away
and Reynard said
did you get your hand up

or get a snog?
just then Parrot
the teacher
turned around

and threw
a piece of chalk
at you
stop the noise

he bellowed
stop the talk.

Christina was standing
by the school gym
her satchel over
her shoulder

her hand gripping
the strap
her hair windswept
when she saw you coming

she smiled nervously
and said
I wondered
if you’d come this way

why?
you asked
she took your arm
and pulled you

into the gym
and let the door
close behind you
the gym was empty

there were voices
and the sound
of people passing
along the passageway

need to see you
she whispered
why?
you asked

I don’t see you
unless I stop you
in the school somewhere
or on the playing field

if the weather’s nice
you gazed
around the gym
at the apparatus

the ropes
the mats
she continued talking
her voice whispering

you looked at her
her eyes dark
and staring
why here?

you asked
we can be alone
for a while
she said

she took hold
of one of your hands
and looked at it
and rubbed her thumb

over the skin
you’re only 13
you said
you’re only 14

she replied
she placed your hand
to her cheek
we’re going to be late

for our next lessons
you said
so?
she replied

you sensed her lips
on your hand
her body moving
closer to you

then she kissed your cheek
then stood there
her mouth slightly open
thank you

you whispered
she smiled
and went out
the gym door

and along
the passageway
you stood gaping
at the ropes

and mats
and the high windows
and a blue sky

and heard voices
calling from the playground
from kids at play
just another moment

you mused
just another day.

Christina walked home
from school
in a strop
she'd not seen

Benedict all day
not on the sports field
(too wet
the prefect said)

nor in the corridors
despite searching
wide eyed
high and low

and in double maths
she'd doodled his name
in the inside cover
of her exercise book

to feel close to him
at least in mind
he was there
his sister said

he was some place
or other
she'd said
in a classroom

or gym
(oh to be there
Christina mused
to be close to him)

and once home
she strode
through the house
(ignoring

her mother's complaints
of this being left undone
or unwashed linen
left on the floor

of her room)
and up the stairs
and into her room
shutting the door

on her mother's tirade
(in one of her
blue moods no doubt)
and putting a chair

against the door
to keep her mother out
she lay on her bed
and took out

the photo of him
from beneath her pillow
and lay it
on her breast

and let him rest
all day and not
one sight
not a glimpse

not a passing shadow
just the teachers
and their talk
and other girls

and their chat
and giggles of boys
or such
oh it was all too much

she mused
rubbing the photo
against her breast
(nearer to her heart

symbolically)
closing her eyes
imagining him there
kissing her lips

******* her hair
talking like he did
of this or that
of some book he liked

or some place
he'd been or liked
to go
but in her mind

at least
he was there
having placed
his clothes

on the chair
being quite bare
(as was she of course
in her mind's eye)

just he and she
laying alone
he saying yea
and she making moan

but disturbed
by her mother's knock
at the door
(the imagining dispersed

he but vapour
in her mind)
and her mother's voice
much calmer

just asking
about some tea and toast
(all sins forgiven)
yes OK

Christina said
tucking his photo
beneath the pillow
and rising

from the bed
carrying his image
and her dreaming
inside her head.

You thought you saw Christ
In Central Park
With beard
And matted hair,
You passed him by
Without a thought,
Then looked again,
But he wasn’t there,
He wasn’t there

Again tonight
Or the night before;
Perhaps it wasn’t
Christ that night,
But someone else
You saw. You’ll never
Know now, can only surmise,
But you thought it was he
By the light in his eyes.

The sight of snow
from the window
of the locked ward

made the room
feel cold even though
the radiators were on

that’s how I feel inside
Christine said
as she stood beside you

looking out
her hand touching the glass
of the windowpane

it was a warm summer’s day
when I was jilted
at the altar

she added
breathing on the glass
so that it smeared up

now look at it
she put her hand
down by her side

and wiped the dampness
on her dressing gown
why didn’t he show up?

you asked
he sent a message
saying he changed his mind

she said
just like that?
she looked at you

her eyes watery
yes just like that
she said

and here I am
locked in this ward
because my mind

is ******
and my nerves
are shattered

she looked away
and stared out
at the trees

and fields
covered in snow
and shot up by ECT

you said
she went silent
and wiped her eyes

on a tissue
I can still feel
the headache

from the last shot
you said
supposed to help

you forget
the quack said
she whispered

but it doesn’t work
she laid her head
on your shoulder

I wouldn’t take off
my wedding dress
for days afterwards

she said
her voice vibrating
along your arm

and wouldn’t eat
a magpie flew
from one tree

to another
disturbing snow
her hand found yours

and she held it
and gave a squeeze
we were going

to get married
live in a big house
and have our

2 point five children
she said
he was a creep

you said
not worth all this
she looked at you

and gave your cheek
a small wet kiss
in a distant field

a tractor ploughed
with white and black birds
following behind

welcome
she said
to the house of the blind.

You sat with Jane
in her father’s church
the bright morning sun

piercing high windows
pushing colours on flagstone floors
the silence caressed you

her nearness warmed
her ankle socks and sandals
had an innocence of strawberries

her flowered summer dress
rode up to her thighs as she sat
her hands resting on her knees

can you feel that breeze?
she said
cooling isn’t it

you sensed it as she spoke
yes I can
you replied

your eyes moved along her thighs
then lifted to her face
as partial sunlight

seemed to show
grace there on skin
and dark black hair

and you watched her lips move
as she spoke and said
I was christened here

and maybe I’ll be wed here too
to whom?
you asked

and she looked at you
a thirteen year old boy
then looked away

some birdsong from outside
had caught her ear
and she turned her head

and you gazed
at her neck and jaw
and saw her beauty

in a way you had not before
sunlight catching her
as it had coloured patterns

on flagstone floor
you wanted to reach
and touch her arm

her skin and sense
her pulse of life
that pumped within.

I wait until
Enid's old man
has left the flats

feeling a bit brave
I walk up stairs
to their flat
and knock at the door

her mother answers
and she has a black eye
and says
what you want?

I need to see Enid

what for?

it's Saturday
I want to go with her
to the flicks

flicks?
she says frowning

yes cinema
see the morning matinee

she looks past me
as if she's seen
an angel behind me

is her father around still?
she asks me

no I saw him go
just now

make sure he's not
doubling back
he does sometimes
just to be a cuss
she says

so I look over
the balcony
look into the Square

well?
she murmurs

no he's gone
he looked in a hurry
when I saw him
I say

Enid!
her mother says
in a harsh call

she turns
and gazes at me
her eyes dull
the black eye closing

what's he do  
for a side show
I say

what?
she says

your old man
what's he do
for a side show
apart from hitting
you and Enid?

ENID
she bellows

I look back at her
as cool as
a young boy can
brushing my
brown quiff of hair
and glazing over
my hazel eyes

Enid creeps out
and stares out
from beneath
her mother's arm

what is it?
Enid asks
looking at me
then up at her mother

the boy wants
to take you
to the cinema
her mother says

I can pay
I say

Enid says
can I go?

her mother sighs
don't tell your father
you've been
you know
what he's like
she says

do I have to lie
if he asks me
where I've been today?

her mother bites
her lip
slightly swollen

sure you do
I say
lie your head off
tell the schmuck anything
but the truth
I tell her
the truth
he isn't worthy of it

her mother
opens her mouth
to speak but it
remains as
a mouthed O

her mother looks
past me again
you sure he isn't
coming back?
she asks

I look over
the balcony again
no he's not
coming back
I say

ok ok
she says
and she says Enid
can go

so I wait
a few minutes outside
while Enid gets ready
and her mother
stares at me
then the sky
as she brushes her lip
and rubs her eye
closing up
like a dark plum

then Enid comes out
dressed in a blue dress  
and her hair brushed
and we walk off
down the stairs
of the flats

she's silent
but excited
and I look down
the stairs ahead
hoping her old man
isn't coming back
as he does sometimes
to catch them out
and commit more crimes.

Sophia leans over
the fresh made bed
of old Tom
and says to me

film on at cinema
(she's Polish
and her
English's broken)

is there now
I reply
folding neat
the old boy's clothes

it good film
I put away the clothes
in the top drawer
of the chest of drawers

you take me?
why would I do that?
it good film
after we go back

to my home for coffee
you want me
to meet your parents?
no they out

at some ex army thing
my Tatus was in War
over here
she says

I stare out the window
of Tom's room
not sure
I can make it

I say
maybe we could
be having **** after?
she suggests

the sky is off grey
the clouds are heavy
the grass below
is bright green

don't need ***
I reply
just a film
I look at her

standing there
blonde hair tied
in a ponytail
eyes bright

as new stars
you go?
she asks
dare I say no?

I muse thinking
of the times
she's nearly
seduced me

on the beds
in this old folks home
me a nurse
she a cleaner

a seductive one
at that
sure
I say

looking away
making sure
all the jobs are done
in Tom's room

so I can leave
she smiles
it be good have
coffee after

I nod
and down the hall outside
there's an old boy's
rattly laughter.

Back in the 1950s
when you were a kid
your old man sat beside you
in the cinema

smoking
the smoke rising
his eyes glued
to the big screen

taking in
the leading lady
of the film
her assets

the way she moved
you sat there
scrutinizing
the leading man

to see how quick he was
on the draw
how fast he was
with the 6 shooters

and which side
of his body
his carried the gun
or guns

how he wore his hat
hoping he’d not waste
too much time
kissing the dame

when there was shooting to be done
and bad guys to get
and his horse to ride
into the big screen sunset

and he sat there smiling
at the dame
the leading actress
smoke lingering

you digging
into the small tub
of ice-cream
he’d brought you

from the salesgirl
with the lit up tray
( who no doubt
hoped to be

a big screen actress
herself some day)
and staying there
beside him

right through
the cartoons
and the other feature  
until he turned to you

and said
let’s go
this is where
we came in

and he got up
from his seat
and you followed
taking a last glimpse

of the screen
the gunfire
the flashes of light
you and your old man

out of the cinema
into the dark night.

The city reminded her
Of a room full of dark flies;
The constant sound of buzzing;
The frightening hitting of

Bodies against the sides; but
Something more disturbing was
Brought to mind: the memory
Of Mr Danzinki who

Died in a room up on Eastside,
And no one found him for months
On end, and the flies got in
And laid their seeds, and they came

To fruition and buzzed in
Turn, and when his rescuers
Opened the door of the room,
There was that awful smell of

Decomposition, and a
Swarm of flies, and the image
That someone told her as a
Child of the sickening find,

Took up residence in her
Mind and stayed there, and somehow
Related to the city, and
The whole buzz and noise of the

Place, and maybe some dying
Corpse down there in the moving
Throng, and a sense of death and
Dying in the city's air.

Miss A held up the card
with a word on it

who knows
what this word is?
she asked

the class stared glumly
at the card

a girl put up her hand
is it monster?
she said

no it's not monster
Miss A said moodily

another girl
put up her hand
is it mouse?

O’Brien snorted
a laugh behind
his ink stained hand

it is not mouse
the teacher said
her eyes lifted
ceiling ward

I put up my hand

yes Benedict?
Miss A said

can I go to the bog Miss?
there was a titter
behind my back

yes you can
but no you may not
she said sternly

I pulled a face
she looked at me
I unpulled my face

anyone else
have any idea
what the word is?
everyone has one
she suggested

O’Brien whispered
to me a word
I could not repeat

what was that O'Brien?
Miss A asked

muscle Miss
he said
(not the word
he said to me)

no it is not that
look at the card
look look
she said

we gazed at the card
in her hands

who knows
the first letter?

a girl put up
her hand

it's M Miss
she said

and the second letter?

I put up my hand
it's O Miss
I said

she gazed at me
and the third letter?

Helen put
up her hand
it's T Miss
she said

already whispered O'Brien
ain't long had dinner

Miss A glared at him
the fourth letter O'Brien?

aitch
he said

Miss A sighed
H
she said
one breathes
the letter out
H not aitch
next letter?
she said

it's E Miss
a girl said
on the floor
sitting crossed legged

and the last letter?
Miss A asked

it's R Miss
O'Brien said

so what do all
the letters say?
she asked

Mobster
a girl said
with glasses
(who often
wet herself
if she couldn't make
the bog in time)

no no
Miss A said
look at the letters

I lifted my hand

and she said
yes Benedict?

I need the bog Miss

GO
she said loudly

and I got up
and sped as fast
as I could

just as I got
to the door

Dennis said
it's Muvver Miss

Miss A looked away
she looked
distressed

it had been
a long
hard day.

Jane had climbed
the Downs with you

and had hardly spoken
on the tiring climb

along the dried up tracks
on the way up

and then at the top
standing beside you

she stared out across
the countryside

and said
you can see

where I live from here
and she pointed out

to the church down beneath
and you said

yes
and took in the church

and the house
where she lived

with the parson
and his wife

and tried to pick out
which bedroom was hers

and she said
I like it up here

away from the crowds
and nearer to God

and you studied her profile
and her hair

and the way she stood there
in that summer dress

and sandals
and with that youthfulness

and you wanted suddenly
to kiss her

and embrace her
but you didn’t

you just stood
and studied her profile

and moving closer
you reached out

your hand
and touched hers

and her hand was warm
and as you squeezed it gently

you sensed the pulse of life
run through

and the moment
seemed to explode

in your head
in a myriad

of colours and sounds
and you rubbed your thumb

along her wrist
checking the pulse

the life
wanting her

to be the one
and pointing upward

she said breaking through
your dream

look at the colour
of that sky

and feel the warmth
of sun.

Benedict
saw Yiska
by the trees

on the school
playing field
at the top

in the shade
from the sun
some boys were

kicking ball
in a game
girls sat in

groups talking
or laughing
Benedict

walked the field
where Yiska
was standing

by the trees
all alone?
he asked her

she nodded
glad you came
wasn't sure

if you'd come
she told him
your brother said

you'd be here
Benedict
informed her

it's quiet
by the trees
and maybe

we can go
in the wood
if no one

is looking
Yiska said
Benedict

looked behind
where she stood

at the small
area
called the wood

must look out
for prefects
who come here

looking out
for couples
we'll look out

she replied
they looked back
at the school

playing field
all was clear
no one looked

so they went
in the wood
at least here

we can kiss
without eyes
seeing us

Yiska said
so they kissed
she with arms

round his neck
and his arms
round her waist

lips to lips
her fingers
soft stroking

his right ear
his fingers
soft touching

her behind
then her thigh
it was their

longest kiss
on the lips
neither breathed

(or so seemed)
then parted
and stood back

and studied
each other
she took in

hazel eyes
quiff of hair
Elvis smile

he took in
her small *******
her fine curves

of body
the longest
that we've kissed

Yiska said
two prefects
he whispered

and they hid
in bushes
in the wood

silently
as two male
prefects walked

past them both
hiding there
once they'd gone

they crept out
of the wood
by the top

near the fence
that was close
Yiska said

Benedict
smiled and said
yes it was

lips to lips
recalling
his fingers

soft touching
her behind
and her thigh

releasing
a warming
and deep sigh.

Touching the cloth of the Christ
in the darkened room
holding back from the black gloom.

I like cloud formations
Jane said
laying on her back

in the small church yard
looking up at the sky
above her head

it’s like a form of art
you said
grey and white

against a canvas of blue
that looks like a man’s head
Jane said

the way it forms
and unforms
you followed

the pointing
of her finger at the sky
that looks like a dog

over there
you said
she looked

and then gazed at you
her blue eyes
catching the sun’s light

through a tree above
I like these moments alone
with you

she said
no one near us
no disturbance

no sounds save for birdsong
and the buzz of bees
you moved closer to her

and lay with you right hand
supporting your head
searching her eyes

her dark hair
about her face
daddy said

that Heaven is above us
and looking
at the cloud formations

I feel I see it
especially when the sun
shines through

she said
her lips moving
with slow motion

I think that sometimes
you said
she leaned nearer to you

and kissed your lips
then lay back
and stared at the clouds

and sky
and you lay back too
thinking inwardly

this is where
I’d like to lie
the day I die.

When I was young
I tended to think

I had forever
and cast

my time around
like a spend drift

with the shakes,
but as I get older

and I know
I am on

my last run
I tend to count

my time
like a tight-******

miser
trying to hoard

those few coins
of time.

It's snowing out,
Christine says,
peering through
the glass

of the window
in the locked ward.
You stand beside her,
staring at the falling flakes,

surreal, chilly, white.
I want to be out in it
like a child, she says,
not stuck in here

like some prisoner.
You can smell her scent,
near by, entering into you,
distracting you. She

presses her palms
against the glass,
breathes on it,
steams it to a small

area of invisibility.
There's a tractor out
in that field, she says,
see it? Yes, you say,

sensing her closeness,
her arm touching yours,
elbow touching elbow.
And those birds look

at them, gulls, rooks,
feeding on the churned
over ground and the snow.
You wonder why

the **** who left her
at the altar could do
such a thing, why he got
that far and then left her

there in her white dress
and flowers and a church
full of people waiting
and then not show and she,

now, stuck in here full of stress
and with a fragile mind.
I want to go out in the snow,
she says, but the nurse

ignores her, walks by,
goes on about some other
business. Why can't we
go out in the snow? she

says to you. Maybe they
think we're going to run off,
you say, watching the tractor's
slow drive, the birds flocking

behind on the ground.
She sighs, puts her hands
down from the glass, holds
them in each other, could do

with a ******* cigarette.
Hey, nurse, got a cigarette?  
Need a smoke, she says.
I got a smoke, you say,

I'll go get them. So you go
to the side room, where
the men are, and bring
your packet of cigarettes

and plastic lighter, and give
her one and light it for her
and light one for yourself,
and she inhales so deep

that she seems to stop
breathing and then exhales
up in the air, holding the
cigarette between her slim

fingers, her hand just so.
And you stand there by
the window watching the
tractor again and the falling

snow, and she's there again,
peering, smoking, sighing.
I'd not have left you at the altar,
you say, I'd not have done

it to you. She says nothing,
the smoke hitting the glass
and flowing inward again,
she gazes out, the tree tops

blanketed in whiteness,
birds in flight, you sense her,
smell her, imagine her.
I wonder who he's *******

now? she whispers, easing
out smoke, the snow falling,
the tractor pausing, then turning
back up the field, birds following.

She inhales again, looks away,
walks back into the main ward,
her fine *** having that sway,
her white night gown like some

dowdy wedding dress, holding
tightly to her, her figure shown,
the outline of her ******* showing,
blue against white. You turn and

watch the snow fall, the tractor
drive, birds in tow, your mind
blank now, white, cold as snow.

Come on Henry she said
come up and see me some
time but Henry said sorry

dame but I can’t today it’s
just not possible the wife’s
coming back from the shops

and you know what wives are
like and she said oh come
on Henry that’s not stopped

you before climbing the stairs
and knocking my door oh that
was for sugar or was it coffee?

Henry said I cannot recall oh
heck Henry don’t be such a bore
you’ve been to my bed many

times before oh Honey don’t
be so with me now I got to be
careful the wife’s in a mood

the neighbours are talking they
twitch their curtains and peek
through blinds oh to hell with

them she said they’ve filthy old
minds oh listen baby maybe
tomorrow when the wife’s away

I‘ll come borrow some sugar or
coffee or whatever you like and
share your bed you’ll come now

Henry or not come at all the young
dame said oh come on sugar give
me a break let me come another

time and I will bring flowers and
chocolates and love and my body
hot ok she said if you promise me

such I’ll cut to a break not for you
or your body but my heart’s sake.