What I can’t imagine is what it would be like to be with you alone
for just, say, one night?

and in holding your hand and taking a kiss from those talk filled lips (what would it be like)?

And just for a second you exist like the petrichor perfume that turns to window mist after a while of summer rain.

But beneath your dripping wet hair I lie still and stare up
to you and wonder why I can’t be there

So I wait in the square and write your name and say something like
I hope to see you again.

Tuesday,
drunk!
Called you.
(No Answer!)
Hello?
I love you.

Desire.
was, after all, the kind knife
That I used to cut you out
From your life And stick you in mine.
and
Was all I needed to take you away
To hotels and rooms only for lovers
With Secrets like ours
And
Fantasy
Tied you in ropes and allowed
Me the vicious satisfaction of quenched need.
but
Love, was never needed,
Nor wanted, while I lay apon
The beats of your breaking heart
But
It was always running down.
Allowing time in was our mistake.
Matrimony
Called you home to your husband and left me alone
Now, shivering and tangled
Low and lonely in a pension
near Vienna.

Warby’s brother died.
While he cycled like a madman
and fell down Smiths hill.
He lay dead on the cold tar,
as the light of the day
faded over his head.

Jen said the man from the car
cried,
and,
shouted at the same time,
(while dusty blood ran around his shoes.)

No ambulance came, no need.
The evening knew.
And so,
at that moment,
frost began and so did snow.

Remember:
The wrinkled cheeks of your
neighbours big head,
stuck in our window.
As she told us all, in silence,
bad news like a song.

Life was hard.
we were all untouched
and continued eating, checking phones,
not thinking much,

Harry warby, 18, now boxed.
He washed the blood and bones
From the floor of the butcher’s shop
gave us cigarettes in the black night
While we shivered in gangs around the streets

We never knew the name of the Man
The Man in the car, so silent in the church.
His shaking hands out of reach of the bible
We were not there we stood outside in the chill
Everyone knew a child had died.
Cars waited, mothers stopped, and
The sky looked like it wanted to snow.
I remember.

Kicking  our way over dog **** grass
And broken glass and the rotten
Litter of poverty we wait in silence
For our time to live and escape the estate.

The men, mostly wrapped in grey,
With knitted necks have nothing to say.
But sway out of the way of the others, passing.

Over there, on six, a man is checking
No one is asking, but he’s still looking.
His finger’s pointing.

Beside me, a beautiful lady, is waiting
Speaking softly to her lover:
“Not long now” – she whispers’, lower.

With late night morning upon our faces
We wonder why, we are here at all
Collecting colds, old age, and wages:
Before middle, old, and then the fall.

And then the sun appears:
It lights the seats where no one sits
I feel my heart beat miss a bit.
I see myself years ago.
Waiting for a train to go.
To take our family away, for free
For fish, chips, salt and sea.

All of us all, sitting there:
Our fathers 1950’s hair,
Our sixties mother thin lipped stare,
my sisters, bothers, and me, just sat there.

Frozen cold, with tears sticking in my eyes.
And for a moment I want back that time.
To start again, at another me:
No more trains - but more sea.

Thats a sad look in your dark eye
Theres a glance that I don’t see
As you take off your pink dress
And slowly undress me.

Thats cigarette ash on your small breast
Thats lipstick on your wine glass
And the sunshine in the window
means its time to leave.

Thats goodbye on my cellphone
Those are tears on my tissue
And the words are a church hymn
Not a song to sing.

You will forgot me, that I promise
While i wait here at the bus stop
And count the coins you gave me
when you wanted me to go.

And so your husband knows all-about-me
And so, what about it!
I thought that you loved me
You told me many times.

So now, so cold, its over
Last words said and I
Delete your number
And don’t say goodbye.

*******!
She took my smokes!
Were the hec is that wine?
White trash: thats what she is
Lying there, stinking like old perfume.
Brush your teeth,
(At least once this year.)
Gimme that remote,
**** tv is mine anyways
Move over, shift, away.
Take your trash
Ok, leave if you wanna..

But

You laugh at night
As you **** in the smoke
And you ride me like no one has
And you like the TV on
While we *****
And you like spirit drinks
and I feel like lightening when
you strike
and I cant wait till Friday
when you arrive.

So

Thats what I think
And so yes – ok – I love you.