c’mere give us a kiss

the car got bumped

& I can tell

by her manner


this was down

to her

& I laugh

c’mon tell me what happened

& the story takes a couple of tells


we get to

it is what it is

& I emphasise

I’m not angry upset pissed off

shit happens sometimes

we fuck up

make mistakes

that is what makes us human

but she is pissed off

with herself

& all I can say is

time will soften that edge

as it does with everything

c’mere give us a kiss


la blonds trois

these three beauties who gave me the cure

I’d been skipping the void

no entanglements to hold

for too many of my years

then un deux trois one after the other

three blonde beauties

married to other men took me into their beds

their messed up lives

& lord knows only too well I am not lover number 1

but these girls wanted & took

everything I could give

then would run on home to  their kids in pretty houses

unsuspicious husbands to live

& love in the afternoon snatched evenings weekends

leaving me to sleep alone until the next snatched time

is not enough for a caring heart

so one after the other I said goodbye let them go

to slide back home to anothers’ arms & hearth

of anything

shit at this

not a follower


natural member

of anything

I enjoy the silence

too much


mountains coasts

the sea hills

anywhere in between

that I don’t have to

put your needs

wants wishes desires


or over mine

but know this

if I find you

you find me

you treat me right

I will

treat you right back

never entered

these flops I found

one roomers two roomers

shared shitter at the end

never entered my head once

to check out the architecture

all I needed then

were the four walls roof over

bed decent enough to sleep

someplace to keep

my bits n pieces of nothing

& these years on

I can stroll by now & look

see how they’ve been gentrified

gussied up all nice with paint

these flops I found for cheap

on glossy sales sheets

late Georgian post classical

& if only I’d known

surely my existence

would’ve been uplifted


creeps up

takes a while

before you notice

like in hot climates

the aches & pains of winter

are gone again

one day you notice

the smell of the flowers

that the rising tide of car noise

is now

just a buzz in the distance

& you look around

feel the lack of pain

absence of anger

take stock of where you are

this wave of something

as the questions come:

am I comfortable?

or just ok?

maybe today

I can feel happiness

go outside

feel the wind

the sun

begin again

it is

me & her

sipping a Sol

put the red bandana

around Papas neck

there in Pamplona

just outside the bullring

sipping our Sol’s in the sun

as the crowds whistled cara al sol

as the pretty girls

touristed by looking on

wondering out loud

who the bust of Hem was

was that a statue

of some old matador

bullfighter retired

from the ring?

one asked out loud


I said smiling sweet

I guess you can say that

it is

yesterdays fancies

a crust

heel of the loaf

yesterdays fancies

slice of stale cake

& I was just a hungry boy

end of the food chain

mouths quicker to take

than my own

& this nice lady would feed me

a crust heel of the loaf

if I hung around

catch her eye

near her back door

until the day

I heard her talking


this poor ragged boy

never has enough to eat

comes from a low family

other end of the street

I feed him anything stale

& as the shame clear

caught my ears

I knew I couldn’t go there

no more


to turn away from

the seventh day’er

suggesting my antecedents

made me on the wrong side

of the accusation

& the words rise

only to stick in my throat

the long work the marches

hours nights spent

trying to put right


I had no part in making

knowing I was doing

the work of the lord

& i knew

she wanted to make me cry

if not knowing the why

so i had to turn away

knowing that would only

serve her undefined needs


but I would not

be doing undeserved guilt today

the running kind

& you she says

pointing a finger at my heart

cos (thankfully) she has no gun

every time we fight

you run

& I tell her

I like you

times’ I love you

others’ I can’t be around

you get to a place

your tank full of spite

maybe you’ve had a bad day

& you want to run your mouth

I’m not that kind

can sit

& just let you pour it on

but if you come to me

say something I do to upset

you got another thing

I can instead do better

then be sure

I’ll stay & listen

hear full

what is on your mind


the problem of starting late

using the years of youth

for other things than a career

then going to college amongst young people

who have not done those things

that took the good years away

tho’ maybe they are just now considering

edging on to the darker line…

fib filling in gaps of employment history

having to remember the lies

out in the wilderness of temp posts

three months six months a week a month

switching from place to place

picking up on skills gapped in those years

leaching on friendships gained

only to leave lose touch over again

then moving finally on to a full-time post

to find yourself amongst people

who never did the strange things

yet still are now on the same pay grade as you

to wonder whether if working full time

like these gaining the one job career

are the real wilderness years