all she gives is second place,
but does hungrier make you better?
her cheek bones porcelain,
like contemplation,
without frontiers.
oh to be a truculent fork.

Theo pushed further
than the usual merry go round,
hungering for lucre
a pound sign today and clarity afterwards,
breathalyized for sanity
supporters parched by their
concession,
his club outbids on wanted;
a journeyman for a quarter
of the repress.

I have harnessed a gold star, quite by chance
but its paltry in its achievement,
mea culpa and the expected rest,
please no aspersions
upgrading is now unsourced.

More solemn than Winter
is your August
sometimes the seashells
spoke of kinder climes
but August is a wicked month,
you have matched your red hair season,
like hued revelry
they await to be tasted your vibrant lips.

You tasted marzipan on her lips
but you wanted the steadfast of  Marchepan,
a fuller denser taste
already the deceit ran through your veins.
The Night keepers have  moments
with their concubines,
and there lay the rub.
Your betrothed only smiled
in half uncertainty.

The Grapes you feasted on
swelled your eyes,
receding hopes
chasten powers,
having played with grief
to shore some unrequited resentment
you withdrew.
The beast of envy has scorned sanity
to  improve his venture.

Mix and match,
northern soul playing.
Paul OG's dansette selection seamlessly threads
the vinyl,
Yvonne Baker - You Didn't Say a Word,
the distant sound of a
visper
frays reality.