Look at yourself she abhors
the mirror as big as she is
not hiding truth like she does,
her friends do, her mother does
about weight and skin and age
Women issues in the way, again
just look at myself she ponders
it itches and stinks and makes
my face go red, my pores and legs
not tighter as assured, as seen
in the advert with ladies her age
told by mum that I'd be grateful at 60
The cream on her legs makes 'em look
more crumpled while all seems tired
belly and ******* under gravity
yet she keeps on applying, better
believe than sorry, better shield
then it'll work in the end, after
all her mother told her so

While walking, I feel a sudden pace
know the words before they come
up, all because of street signs,
parks and tumbling thoughts.
Of thinking of you. My pace
skips a beat, my words stop.
The sun shines and I hold you dear.
The rain pours and I hold you, dear.
You are in my house and I want
you there. You remedy my world
and we cook a meal and talk.
You take me to the river
and back. I have fallen.

gone West  
went South
East street
Northern line

conscious about subconscious
moves and twists she hated 

to lie but there it was

the life getting the hold
the songs where the tears
a boy where no love
a kid where no desire
no fear while a mortgage
no shame while a contract

so there it is then

the little voice holds no music
the life keeps her promises

conscious catches subconscious

for their 10th anniversary she
bought him a new tv set
for her 50th birthday he
a new car - wrong colour
for Christmas a ski trip
for Summer a new kitchen
everything purchased
with best wishes
for the perfect memory
for a perfectly happy day

I'm so hungry...so I'm drinking coffee
I'm dreaming of California...so I'm flying to NYC
I'm so into him...so will avoid all texts and terraces

Wanting to stay yet not willing to go,
thus staying when needing to scoot

Inescapably too many questions and ideas
Irreversibly too many given facts of lives

When there's a queue one has
to wait, feel free to fill in the rest
brains and minds solved

A sultry summer night in August.
Crickets trill and the blue pool
water calms down. The hills smell
of Oleander and she lies there.
Her bikini inviting, a vermouth
with no ice. Tempting lifetime in
California. I need help, she says.

Try to get to where
I am, he says, not a lot
better but at least you try.
And drifts off. About time to
get your act together
not ask more questions
invite, so she sleeps soundly.

And cannot remember
her dreams, the rain.
What matters is not a lot
more than no ice
than to look outside
where hills, wealth,
blue in August.