I might be broke
living in low rent
slow time sipping cheap wine
but I had words
& always
the ability to disappoint
oh I called this romance
creating future dreams
but when these
floated away in the air
there were unkind words
of liar storyteller
dark looks to kill
threats I had let them down
& I’d say look around
this is how I live
all I have to give
are these things
of words cheap wine
my romance
of better days to come
I had me
some time there
these cities come up
on the TV
& I’m not listening
to the news reports
the presenter waffling on
I’m checking out
the background
scenes places
I know I’ve walked
so often alone
just wandering
picking up the smells
sights scenes
wondering how it would be
to live there
die in situ
when I knew nobody
had nowhere to live
just a passing through soul
experiencing
another what I could have been
there was hope
at one point
there was hope
hope for balance
that life would even out
if this bad had happened
surely then later
karma
would bring balance
restore equilibrium
create happiness
but no
there is
no umpire
no referee
no higher court
no appeals
I filled in the forms
down at the foundry
but they turned me away
you’re too bright son
you’ll get bored & leave
& it seemed over & over
there was something lacking in me
I could sweep the streets
empty dustbins kill weeds
do the work required
but there was something
in me I did not have
& they’d let me go
wishing luck in the next life
off I’d go to the next line
fill in the forms do the job
last a day a week a month
then time would come
they’d breathe a sigh
say sorry son
time to go
& on
& on
oh she wanted everything given
on a one way street
praise adoration unbidden
due to being a goddess
everything due
and given time
I might’ve been
her acolyte
except I had not enough
gifts offerings donations
tithes to bestow
so she’d find others
with sacrifices to show
she was not a jealous god
where I was a venal
disciple
so I gave her away
for them with pleasure
to endow
one of those times
you find out
something
you already knew
she said
I want to meet your friends
more people I’d known
next city over
sure they said
its been a while
come Friday night
we’ll go out eat dance
you know our style
sleep somewhere
we’ll make space
& we go over
she hates them the music
everything
but we drink some eat dance
go back to their place
talk a while
find a space to flop
sometime after three
she can’t help herself
stop
take me home take me home
& I say straight
I can’t do this still drunk
but after a while
the lights go on
they crowd in concerned
take her home man
she don’t want to stay
& I knew then clear
wrong friends
wrong girl
the only way
to make this stop
is drive drunk
for people who don’t care
anyway
some scars
don’t ever heal
looking in the mirror
seeing the battles
that have been
tattoos do some work
the sun keeps others
clean
& others internal
hidden from the day
come out at night
to be refreshed
reseen
these will never heal
tell the truth
they said
so I did
no not that one
tell us the one we like
then we will love you
how do you feel?
no not that one
tell us the one we like
then we will love you
have the courage
of your convictions
no not that those
tell us the ones we like
then we will love you
& then they wondered
why I felt crazy
in their world
telling them what they wanted
rather than true
the time I spent
away from you
working shirking
doing the things I did
to pay for what we needed
& like everything
when I was young
black & white
no shades in between
I missed you in each moment
aching for the end of day
coming home
to do the things
we loved to do
until day light came
& I’d have to go out
start over
again
Facing the Spanish sun
conversation Spanish group
meeting every week there in the library
a group of nice ladies of a certain age
struggling with their Spanish
picked up from holidays on the costas coasts
or lines in phrase books dictionaries
I joined for a time if feeling out of place
talking of the backwoods villages
wandering out on the plains
& one sly old dog catching my eye
talking of songs sung crowds at the Futball
next week brought in a cd player lyrics
to which these nice people all sang along
to Cara Al Sol the song of the falange
Franco’s fascists
their marching song of the civil war
as trolling goes he won the day
but if anything I knew clear
I was in the wrong place
because these people knew nothing
of the place they so wanted to speak
