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Thursday, 5 November 2015

Someone Else’s Song

It's always somebody else's airport
That have low priced flights
It's always somebody else's parties
That party on through the nights

I wouldn't get married again she said
Not that anybody's asking
I'm still paying for the last one
He didn't leave me a goddamned thing

But I'd like a week away
Even have a bit of a fling
Have me a few glasses of sangria
Wearing loads of bling

It's always somebody else's airport
That have low priced flights
It's always somebody else's parties
That party on through the nights



Available on Kindle

Wednesday, 4 November 2015

Lodge

Into the conservatory
I might spend all summer
Taking breakfast here

I watch the grass grow
Marvel at the swoop of swallows
While my compatriots take tea and toast

The orange juice chilled
The starter table filled
With champagne and cereal

Beware of golf balls says the token sign
Beneath my broken
Double glazed bedroom window

I was working for the BBC
In a sort of time and motion study role
I watched; it’s no use, I can't remember any specifics

I do recall that some things were measurable
Some stuff took just too long
So had to be bundled

I think it was all to do
With the move from London to Manchester
Although I might have worked that out later

I wish I could remember the specifics
Maybe it's something to do with me unsuccessfully
Trying to buy Freud's book on Dream Analysis!

At this time
Slower than before
Less audio interference



Available on Kindle

Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Yes

Always
On days
When I didn't
Feel like doing
Good things 
I would do
Good things


Monday, 2 November 2015

Humber; Almost

Mottled wall
Brand new car
Window with balcony railings
Sun roof & automatic

Old town; Cuba or Peru
Neapolitan auto promotion
Photographs of here and there
Shot on fine grain film

Wind blows intense
Couples stress their words
I sit in the corner seat
Tap the tiny keyboard

Go back to the past times
Think on the opposition
The support of melody
Sat way outside the cafe

Where sky and hedgerows meet


Available on Kindle

Sunday, 1 November 2015

Travel

She wears the flower print fine cotton scarf
Which almost matches the reddish pink, open-toe sandals
Is he her son, or is he her lover; the laughter suggests an intimacy
The demonstration to all around
Of a certain sort of quintessentially provocative relationship

The strawberry yoghurt is one strawberry strong
& the Americano coffee is steamed through one shot
Of freshly ground and roasted bean

Men, who speak in high voices, surprise me
With their male conversation; that they are father and son
Is my more observant observation.

The young man (with glasses) shows off his sky blue tee shirt
Although I doubt from his complexion
That he has ever been to Buenos Aires, or anywhere else
That the Argentina La Albiceleste logo might suggest


Available on Kindle