sniffin’ in the chair

she sits there

sniffin’ in the chair

reading stuff I wrote

the night or years before

& she will admit grudge

some of it works for her

& I want to tear it away

take it out from her hands

sniffin’ there in the chair

hating the surrounds

how I live beneath her

as though she hasn’t sat

like my four drink whores

who at least pretend

to like my shit

there on the porcelain

knickers round her ankles

thinking on the night before

not in peace

I sat down

where the great man wrote

to take a look

read from his book

& heard what he heard

saw what he saw

& I understood the words

had already fallen

for the idea

some time ago

felt the sense of place

exit from cities

foul humanity

dirt squalor disgrace

but I was not the only pilgrim

others had been before

& no doubt more

will come

like those who leave their litter

bottles cans paper plastic

homage corrupts if the wanderer

comes for bragging rights

not in peace