do i have to habit this
mad vignette!?-lily shouts
through the letter box..
to crow´s laughing wing..

she returns holding his epistle
another poem!slams it down
amid the charred remnants of
toast..

lemon marmalade (it is called)

a bitter thing called love
bought and sold from
the discount up the road

or some enough
neither fire nor stone
some tedious code

sent from heaven above
shared but alone
hell in it´s abode

yellow red and mauve
labelled one
to two bestowed

who once owed
nothing..
but now love..

ii

in her eyes a far mind
over the tatty hum
called linoleum..

a little more this and
that..
peace and a black cat..

there was a strange attitude
(to you) i did nt understand
some find success hard..

some have no idea-
you were an enigma-
had you come from america

and not a geordie boy..
you were pretty and talented
had you the grace to die young..no..

an actor
a ****** athelete
a lovely wife..

we were all at sea
a classical composer
an enviromental warrior

ancient heart
well read and clever
no,wonder..eh..

i)

they is me
is singular
that is how i
understand
doc..

we share some what
i don´t know
red is black
left is right..
(sit on our arses..)

we some causes
we have some effects
they are basically me
and you..
true..

we want to eat drink and be
merry
we want to be respected..
maybe it should be an  outdate
one word..blue..

one word for us and them and
you and me-some cultures i
believe have no word for just
about everthing..
and they go along..

ii

the first word lily says
would be..fire or ****
did i tell you about my dream..
forgot..everytime-think..
fire is the same
as is ****..young is young
and old old..

dance is dance
you are you and ii
where´s my pipe
where´a light
young people think they
have it tough today..
let me tell you..

iii)

i sold earings and i
hated it..
you think what about all
the women..hey..they complain-
hello they go..is that silver..
i have sensitive ears..
like i care..
is it silver..

it is -it  is an alloy
of varous metals-one being silver
then why is it so cheap..
everyday..day..after day..
i would be happy when i had to
go to another beach..
you could nt read cause they
ran away if you put your book down..

i have nt got my purse today
tell me when you find it..
they..thought they were at the mall..
once,this woman goes to each stall and
picks an item from each and looks around
for the cashier..we laughed..
si, i go to another island and find a

piece of paradise to get ****** in..
one bus a week on tuesday at four in
the morning..we put away the chairs and
dance..
they were naked and lovely times
in a bamboo hut by the waves..
i read the russians..

peter is popular-
my mother said
learn to play the guitar
you will be popular!

but you can´t always trust
your mother..
who,then can you trust
life is a bust..

lily says she has an innate
distrust of popularity-popularity
power regret and guilt..
****,girl?!

on the other hand what
we do has a habit of a hat
good intention not with-

what we give we get..
act of kindness-see through dress
pay our debt..

then of horse
long time dead and lost
the flowers..

regret is pointless
useless but invariably
part of our lives..

illogical, says lily
but can ****
like guilt..

they say it is worse to
regret what has not been
rather than what has..

how do they know..
she says she has no regrets
and feels no guilt..

only a harlot is a harlot..
from the moment of concept
our way lays before us..