oh no
never alone
until the day you said goodbye
& that was such a relief
not to have to think
of you first
how anything would play by you
never lost in my thoughts
without you asking
what was going on in my head
dissecting each process
how everything affected you
your tears to bleed
& I was never alone
to count the seconds
patterns in sun on the wall
reflect on happier times
before you took them all
put them in your scrapbook
forever yours to keep
is how she lived her life
lurching from one broken car
lover to another
& as a friend I found her fun
in small doses that is
even sometimes getting to meet
greet the grey men
who always but always
had some deficit in the trouser area
& nobody wants to hear details
on all of that
but she had this in spades
& I’d listen one ear on the issue
one eye roving the café blind
noise bar we’d meet
until one time
my third eye sparked open
just what if you are part of the collection
she chooses
grey men with erectile issues?
I smiled kissed her cheek
checked my manhood
made my excuses & left
never to be audience again
it is hard to learn a language
I was saying
if you have nowhere to put it
speak it in exchange
oh is that why
she asked
all wide-eyed innocent put on
you are so bad at love?
yeah of course I said
thank you for noticing
it’s because I got good
at the in between sheets stuff
with all of your sisters
I never had to bother learning
that language of love guff
label them from the outset
as crazy misguided
even better some kind of ‘ist or ‘ism
& from then on
is almost as good
as putting fingers in your ears
& singing nanana can’t hear you
glue the label on tight
& you don’t have to listen
regard anything they have to say
& better still
you get to bully them
feel good & righteous about doing that
treating them as not right
disregard their humanity
rights to their own opinion
safe on your own high moral ground
rinse & repeat
ad infinitum
the first time
I’d be about five
playing over on the waste ground
& the older kids came over
began muscling in
shoving me out of the way
go home to your mum got said
& he ain’t got one she run away!
& before i knew it
I was fighting kicking & biting
knees faces arms
everything got in my way
they threw me down pretty quick
walked off muttering to themselves
& that’s when I was found
throwing rocks at their backs
by the neighbours who said
what a rotten kid to be doing that
but then they mumbled between them
he ain’t got one at home
to show a better way
& they wondered why I hated them
too
you see her in the street
reacting gently
as the hogs rumble by
she can’t help herself
that soft turn towards
the sound
& you wonder if it stirs
somewhere deep inside
she was young once
loved all her boys
lost some in ways
she remembers to forget
another stuck around
now she’s a grandmother
to the one she’s pushing
a different set of wheels
but that doesn’t stop
her thoughts
of when
her hair grew yellow long
fitting those tight leather jeans
in summers so long past
now most days feel like autumn
her hair shining grey
those fading leaves
like memories
falling down
Oh god not this again
he wants to sit & reflect
on the wisdom of age
the benefits of thinking rather than doing
without listing the not be able to’s
run a straight line at speed
fuck three or four times a night
& want more
see the horizon clear
not focussing on blind spots to the sides
be awake at 3 a.m.
& not be bothered by this
drink & drink & eat whatever is in front
laughing throughout the evenings
no concerns on the morrow to come
oh yeah
deliver me from reflections such as this
I’d rather still be banging
on yesterdays drum
living on ‘pane
are real country words
ways of being
folk talk easy on the ‘shine
clinkin’ & drankin’
from jelly glasses
that has gone all mainstream
become part of city culture
the other truth of livin’ country
is getting’ by on ‘pane
having to go to the store
or the gas station
get a refill middle of the night
to cook dinner
breakfast
& come winter
the heating
even the Creedence knew
all about that
sometime around Christmas
& it was F cold outside
we’d gone in I was hanging my coat
as Tim handed me a glass
cheers he said bon appetit
& stumbled back with a mumble ‘sorry’
into a fella who promptly pushed back
now Tim don’t like being mauled
so he pushed back harder
& the fella landed on a table behind
the group behind liked this fella even less
& started in throwing punches
the fellas crowd stepped up to defend
& there we were: bar fight!
other people wanted in on the action
pretty soon everywhere had erupted
chairs in the air glasses alongside
as Tim tapped his glass against mine
cheers he said again as we leant back
elbows against the bar merry christmas
looks like we got us some entertainment too
into the woods
I went deep into the woods
the places we used to play
make love
&
wander hand in hand
&
thought of you
Write, you’d say
just no more fucking poetry
write those stories
the ones about stuff
of love
of people
of
you
&
Me
i took a piece of chalk
wrote her name
&
mine
&
a heart
even though
we were no longer lovers
&
back then
i was older
more mature
than this juvenile
chalk in hand
neilbenbow 