maybe I was lucky
in not finding
the right bar
the right group
of friends
though to be sure
I spent the time
put those hours in
looking
searching to find
but everywhere
seemed full of people
trying to find a platform
makeshift stage
to put on their act
try to impress
gain some following
win their unseen war
against invisible forces
which no doubt existed
within
where
I only wanted time
to think
work out the world
I was the problem
this succession of shack jobs
beautiful young women
who came into my life
for a year or two
then broke us up cursing me
my indigent wasted ways
I was the problem apparently
& I’d be still the same
as when they entered
tho’ now they at least
had somewhere to live
it was always me having to find
some new place to hunker
& they’d be sure to have
more stuff than when they came
I’d be off with a half car load
paperbacks notebooks music
to another place begin again
for another young woman
come along promising love
to later find me the problem
apparently
all I had to go on
were my eyes
as my ears
were letting me down
I heard all what people said
just fine
but could not see them
doing the things
they said they’d do
& you learn to realise
shutting up
is the wise thing to do
because when
you point out the words
they got going
are nothing but lies
is when they bring
hate & spite
into the game
Not
sipping on the JD
tasting the Beam
but
late night
cut glass balloon glass in hand
cupping to warm the contents
half full of Funtador
I found myself
pontificating
pronouncing if you will
on the merits
of a good Spanish brandy
my girl stared at me
what gives?
& I knew in an instant
the booze
had done its job
I was indeed
drunk
on words
on life
again
we would pull people
take them
out of their everyday
charm them
love them
& once we had
what we wanted
needed
gently return them
back to their stream
the art in all of this
was to return them
unharmed
unscathed
unknowing
how they had been
taken
milked of whatever
they had
we needed
anything else
would be uncouth
reveal us
to be the beasts
we were
I love the one offs
the strange who come
& go in my life
the admiral’s daughter
whose dad lived in a hidden house
you could walk right by it
never see it there
I would listen to her stories
as we sat in Rosies wine bar
drinking decent affordable reds
glass of Badoit water to the side
she had travelled to Paris in the 70’s
to see the world gained her education
at the Sorbonne for free the policy then
anybody could sit in attend any lecture
finding discarding lovers at whim
learning the language of the street
to augment her taught to grade pronunciation
& I could listen to her for hours
learning the wisdom of the rich
enlightenment of an activist
from the streets between the sheets
& all of it funny as all hell let loose
a pull to the wild side
world of greasers bikers punks loners
dopers smokers drinkers wet brains
gamblers addicts peepers creepers
hot rods customs fast machines
speed thrills spills highs lows
finding enlightenment bottom of the barrel
seeing clear the night sky reason for stars
free sex strange sex any sex try it sex
the porn soft hard indifferent
countryside mountains fast oceans
drifting into town trouble relationships
sliding out of all of those doing them again
the writers out on the edge slinging truths
the rare journalist hitting the mark
tell it is like it is
understanding it is what it is
& why all of this matters
to you
I never met a crowd
that I didn’t feel better leaving
I must send them a note
my bread & butter
I said
& she fell about laughing
your what?
my bread & butter
a note to say
thank you for inviting me
had a great time etc
y’know the kind of thing
you sent to Aunts Uncles rely’s
to say thank you for the birthday
Christmas gift
& you did that? she asked
yes it’s what you do
to say thank you
oils the machinery
of family & friends
keeps the love going
we never did that
any of it she sighed
maybe that’s why
we never stayed in touch much
ok then
hows’about you write one for this?
but she never did
A4
just the one piece of paper
I’d like to have
on old friends acquaintances
people I used to know
enemies frenemies
one side of A4
outlining their messy divorce
drug addled kids wives
brothers sisters lovers
the loss of their job
their living in squalor
sleeping in a van down by the river…
you know the kind of thing
any court cases due
prison time spent
embarrassing diseases
disfigurements
one side of A4
because I don’t want
to meet them talk in the street
stalk them call them
just one side of A4
to carry all the meat
