tight & tighter

so many jams

tight corners

that I’d talked my way


finding myself caught up

again & again

trying to find new ways

to be

& to create

a decent way out

without hurting people

meant I ended up

hurting me

that’s the problem with people

they’ll happily watch

as you trap yourself

stand idle by & giggle

as you flail

your way out

oh lord yes

I found find the drinking easy

very few tastes I didn’t don’t like

on first name meeting terms

& the bloat didn’t discover me

for the first ten years or so

but now as I move towards

other than the barroom light

pants trousers shirts

seem to be getting tight

& now there has to be

a conscious decision

today I won’t drink

not in a twelve stepper way

oh lord no

but these things others

don’t need

to say or even think

lets do something other

than drink today

always something

I read too much

drank the same

wrote too often

slept late alike

shouted wrong answers

at quiz shows on the tv

had pretensions of ideas

begged stolen of course

above my lowly station

as nothing was right

in this deserted old head

spend time thinking of other

than them

& still they’d offer cool love

drag me off to bed

& I’d leave them slowly

or with the whipcrack

of a late hour slamming door

if I was never right for them

just how could they love

hold me tight in the night

if I was such a dead hearted

half crazed slow witted boor?

not for politeness

I turned away

two lovers saying goodbye

at the train station

he was holding her

arms all around strong tight

& she was happy to be held

but had to go away

as the tears came

& I had to turn away

not for politeness

innate cowardice at powerful feelings

but from recognition

how I held you in my time then

you were that woman

I was that man

& I never saw you again

I had to turn away

this was their moment

not mine

any emotion here

apart from theirs

was unwanted

on the A7 out of Alicant

heading towards Valencia

sun shining

decent grip on the road

the world is all ok today

& here he comes

head down on his hondyamkwakazuki

eyes scanning the traffic

for false moves

sudden lane changes

this is what I see

& what he doesn’t see

is his senorita

holding him for dear life

perched like a capuchin baby

high on his back

eyes shut

flickering them open

then shutting tight shut again

the fear in them

as she mouths her prayers

as he makes his next overtake

she must be all

of five feet nothing

in cropped jeans leather jacket

holding on to her man

trusting in god & him

such is

life in the fast lane

on the A7 out of Alicant to Valencia

very small tight

very small tight opening

that I kept closed

for so many years

did not let anyone in

& accepted full

this was the price

of being alone

if I didn’t let them in

no harm could come to me

but that is not real life

the hurt continues anyway

this being a hurting position

& the strain shows

in all the seed you’ve sown

until I let go

let everything flow in

see what would come

new beginnings

& had to learn new

to differentiate

between the lovers

the haters the clowns

& those with love to give