port towns

I was struggling to gain traction

my heels could not dig in anywhere

& thankfully Alex the Viking offered me

a blanket & sofa place to lay my head late nights

give me an address to look out from

& I turned up four nights out of seven

not wanting to queer the pitch

his girl was ok about it this older woman

who didn’t seem to mind the motorcycles

drinking doping trips to sea out trawl fishing

gone for days back flush with money & thirst

he asked me to stay over while he was away

look after her

around night two late I woke found her arm of the sofa

nightgown short slightly askew is there anything I can get

do for you?

I mumbled from under the blanket I’m ok thank you

& turned over knowing my time there was closing

when Alex came back

he took me for a drink all smiles thank you for looking after her

gave me a wink when I said

I’ll find another place to stay

ok man whatever you say

who?

had I become

shrouded in memories

haunted by the you’s

of sordid histories

chances taken

squandered

openings disregarded

wilfully missed

to sit here alone

in an old coat

pockets with holes

bare table but for a bottle

sipping on something

to make that last

knowing nothing

ever does

but the eternal of

why?

what?

when?

joined now by

whatever