dear lily,
i write a poem for you
appreciating your
thought-processes-caw!?

three notes never sounded
that good-i love you
i lick my finger and find a bud
i love you too-

the lotus open and in
the glories of morning
the milkman delivers
a happy whistle..

we have our coffee and
laugh at nothing..the birds
sing happily..
dull sun in your eyes..

ii

dear crow,
the ****** is an ambitious
genre
a thin line between
the lewd and cor-blimey..

some of the lines
are cringe-worthy..but of course
it is a question of balance..
a lapse into a carry on-

there is innocence and something
common place-a wave at bill is
a pretty touch..(he was very rude!)
the cliches we won´t go into..

and there is humour..i mean ***
is hilarious..the atmosphere of bonhomie
saves us..i can almost hear desert island discs
or perhaps chopin..

their vanity is an eternity
if you think the stars are
far away..

i told my father that story
leaving out  some of the details
(trying to bond)-but he
said they should have locked me up
i think meaning her too..later,
he said don´t tell me any more stories
like that..how we misunderstand each other..

i feel i should complete
this minor trilogy lily
(but  if you are of a
sensitive disposition
then,do not read on..)

i am torn between the vague
easily distorted by time!
we were twenty and the alarmingly
specific-the details unnecessary-
and the forgotten..

wht..or why because no one cares
and half a story untold..
well,we had got to the vinegar strokes
(as i believe they are known-)
dog on pretty dog-my pretty madamoiselle
parlez-vouz and me..

when the police came along..
what do you think you are doing
and you can not do that here
self-evident in the first case and
au contraire-the moon on the ocean
the breeze in the palms
the white sands night soft and fragrant..

like the gentlemen that they were
they turned their backs as we dressed
pulling my trousers on i fell down and fell
asleep in the cool sand was paradise-
to be rudely awoken with a long stick..
when he began searching the sand for
our stash..

crunch-crunch-i can still hear as
he got closer and i tried not to look
this could get complicated..
so i looked at her..though she was not
really there..just too beautiful looking out
to sea as penelope must have waited..
crunch-crunch but  it stopped..
you will go to prison for a year..

(i had read of such things in the tabloids..)
we all stopped and looked at her
but she was not there..a pre-raphaelite
sight-still and innocent..we are all just prisoners
of our own device-and everyman lives behind bars
of his own making or something..

then born of desparation, inspiration..!
ok..we go to the station..but i should say
my father..lol..is a big man (which was true)
at the embassy and i want a phone call..!
**-**-you are good man(not true)..in my
best oxbridge which is prety good..
and they left us..after a long silence she
turned to me and said..what happened..?
and we got on with part two..

lily flicks through the
cosmo for stars-
what happened next?

perceptive as ever
it was not the end of the
matter-the next day

arther made to muscle me
for money-i said i paid
my police fine-

he said how much-
what had that got to do
with him-

how much did he pay
he would nt say..
he said,my father is angry..

i thought my father is angry..
but he keeps stamping pensions
and selling them cigarettes..

why,did he carry the equivelent
to the third world debt
or words to that effect..

he said,because i´m rich!
i said you are useless
your father is rich..

he thinks you should contribute
ha-it was hard to feel any sympathy
he would sit in flash restaraunts

and wave lobster claws at me
as i wandered by-laughing-
i paid my fine 50p..lol..

he said,i kept us out of prison
they gave me my hash back,arther,
it was a game..

he said,i will make a problem
for you-i did nt like this and
moved a little closer..

i said did you tell your father
you cried like a little girl
and he went off..

ii

but sure enough
the police followed me
and watched from the shadows

one stood in my way
and made it plain..
someone was to pay..

lily!we went to a party
in an old colonial house see
us three out our heads on
a mo-ped,no crash hats, no lights
following the taxis!!

but lo! up ahead!
a police road blocked!
slow down arther man!
get on the right side of the road..
passports?
do you know where the party is..

o shakedown..!
luckily i had left the family jewels behind
and only 50p in cash-but arther the swiss banker
paid..!lol..
how much he would nt say but i had
cunningly held my hashish in my hand
while turning my pocket out.. only
four fingers gave me away..

he said you will go to prison for one
year..arther was crying..lol..but the cops lost
interest and let us go on-gave me back my
hash..and i was ready for them on the next night
with my pretty mademoiselle parlez-vous-on the beach..
the party was good i think-the imperialistic back drop just
fine..

sometime ago i can´t remember
when,
i was waiting at an airport
i think it was stanstead and
i am sat on one of those radiators
chilling and reading my book
inwardly cursing all humanity
when at my feet upon my bag-
quite small my partner brought in
morocco-i noticed a dog..it
was like effing it..i thought stange-
there is a dog effing my bag!where am i?
you know when you are reading and enthralled
it takes a few seconds to focus..hey..a dream..
no..there is a dog really..so i look up and
there are four or five soldiers with fingers on
their triggers..and they are watching me and this dog
so i get it..ok..so we look at this dog-someone is having
a good time..?!in an airport imagine..well, i said good
dog and tried to make friends being an animal lover-
and went back to my book..eventually it went away and
i looked at my bag and felt mildly violated..then looked up
at the milling crowds..but their still stood a solitary soldier
looking down at me..