throwing stuff

throwing stuff

knowing next week

I will need exactly one of these

but throwing anyway

roll the dice live the life

& there

to stop me in my tracks

photograph of an eye

her eye

to be exact

taken late one night drunk

she’d flipped the camera

hit the button

caught her eye just perfect

& I would not be needing this

next week ever again

but somehow

it stayed there

in the keep pile

people say the strangest things

I was suffering for a long time

under the misapprehension

we were all good people

being good to each other because

until late in the night he leaned in

I think I should tell you

everybody here is scared of you

& people say the strangest things

but I thought I should listen

as the unsolicited opinion

somehow always being worth more

oh really? so people are being nice

because? they are scared of me?

he began to back off a little here

so if they weren’t scared they’d be

what? behaving like shits?

there y’go man he said that’s it

that’s exactly why

nobody wants someone like that

to be near

at the county fair

The lady sat in her kaftan

restless with boredom

until she saw my girl

read your palm honey?

smiling all sweet

watching me with bad eyes

while putting my girl on

take a seat she said

gesturing at an empty wooden chair

would you like a tarot reading

or me to read your palm?

I wandered away

looking for the beer tent

a rifle range win her a teddy

until she caught me up

long time later

all quiet & serious

it was nothing she offered

just the usual stuff

& later that day

she did say though

we wouldn’t be together

in the long term

& that is sad

eh?

& I was thinking

maybe I could be a clairvoyant

as I’d been thinking

the same thing too

so many times

there were moments

so many of these

I lived with her

I’d call her name

& she had nothing to say

& I had nothing to give back

but sorrow

to fill up our time

so I’d say you OK?

yeah she’d answer just fine

got nothin’ to say today

so many times

the next day too

as the brick wall beckoned

so I let her go

& then

she had so much to say

but by then

it was too much too late

our ship had sailed

she could not

would not ever

change

Zaragoza

stopping to sleep

at one of the many kilometre houses

here many years ago

a family lived

farmed the land all around

supported themselves

& now

left to the termites

wanderers to shit in corners

throw stones at the glass

burn any wood for fires

to sit around drink do drugs

maybe dance

there is no haunting here

the people moved into high rises

bought out by governments

for new roads bridges to go in

& they hold no regrets

now they have neighbours

shops entertainment electricity

water on tap

& I dream of this as I sleep

warmed by the high sun

to wake ready

to also move on

antennae

to go into a room of people

paddle your way through

looking around

feeling

with your invisible antennae

knowing who is who

likes the same things as you

holds similar strange beliefs

will back you in a tight corner

comes from the same

broken home blended family

strange belief systems

& then we speak

& all of this dissolves

as we let words

get in our own way

twelve

lying on my back

staring at the stars

wondering

just what

the all of that meant

seeing shooting stars

wishing

for a better life world

future

& the old man

telling the world anybody

about his idiot boy

lying on the ground

staring at the sky

watching dreaming

the fool

thinking ridiculous thoughts

about a brighter day

to come

& now I understand

he did not know

what to do with

or for me

questions

questions

to which the answer

always is

NO

will this pretty presenter

of the late night TV show

find evidence for Alien life

tell us who built Stonehenge & why

show us where Elvis lives now

become friends with Bigfoot

explore their backwoods home

find & have the DNA of the Yeti examined

solve the riddle of the Loch Ness monster

the Kraken

the Flying Dutchman

reveal the ripper murderer?

& on

& on

to which the answer

always is

NO

when that needed be

my first school

was downtown

& we all had the same

nothing

& plenty of that

which made us kids similar

pitching in to share

whatever we found or stole

& nobody grassed

because we knew already

how tough life was

without bringing more shit

into it

& then we moved

to find myself amongst

kids who had more than nothing

it was here I first found snobbery

& that teachers loved rich kids

over poor ones

when that needed be

the other way round