village idiot

sitting in the sun

swapping stories telling tales

stupid things we’d done

I used to love to listen

used to love the man

but now he sends me silly shit

pointing out the village idiot

other low hanging fruit

expecting praise some applause

& I try to explain

we found our own yuk yuks

had ideas thoughts to explore

I find this stuff boring just inane

low hanging fruit is too easy eh?

he gets in a huff tells me I’ve changed

maybe he’s right mebbe he’s wrong

& mebbe the village idiot

had something to offer all along

yellow & purple stare down

sitting on the kerb with you

drunk again

failing to understand

where everything went wrong

trying to untie a wet knot

soaked in your tears

case hardened by flames

& the streetlights

yellow & purple stare down

creating shadows bruises

where I don’t need blame

I know in this you were clear

I’d made everything go wrong

the faults were at my door

in the low notes you laid there

pushing crimson feelings shame

& saying I love you

will never be enough

to turn back the clock

break it all down

start over again

saturday started

it was over before

it even began

she had some commitment

saturday night

looking after this couple’s kids

we could babysit & stay over

she said

& I did not want to go

so she pulled faces

made me change my mind

the kids were in bed by eight

we kicked back

sucked on some cheap red wine

watching stupid shit on the box

around twelve I called it a night

got into bed turned over

& she started in

I was not the man she thought I was

which somehow was my problem

I got up put my pants & shoes on

she cried out what’s happening here?

I’m gone baby leaving out the door

my bed is peaceful

no noise in my ears there

let’s try again

on another day

sharp as the days they were made

sitting & listening


to old soldiers stories


as the days they were made

hoping for clues


some moral compass


to live by

but no

they are just jokes

tall shaggy dog tales

non sequiturs

played only

to eke out the day

they plow on

either forgetful or uncaring

I have heard each fable before

my only use here

is as ears


easy women they come & go

I took my love

wherever I could

no illusions no fakery

seeing as best I could

they loved my money

sitting the afternoons

getting up late

hanging out those dingy rooms

waiting for sunset

ready to go out

& you may feel

I’m unfunny unwise unkind

but when my money

came to an end

they were off

sliding when I was out

off to find new friends