SHARKS AND WAVES

sharks and waves

collapsing in the sea

cerulean with gainsboro grey

testers for beach house paint

fins swarf the white crust

of the murdered reef

but shallows are for sharks a grave

like surgery in outer space

while sand and fear dog my feet

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BOWLINE

I’ve driven men away
Into sinking sands with no Way Out

I’ve driven men away
Into overcrowded metaphors;
Heartbreak Hotel, Single AF, My Bachelor Pad

I’ve driven men without being able to drive
with folded eyes to far off skies

Many a mile and many in bloom
from casual drinks to a hotel room
from a gypsophila wedding aisle
I’ve driven men and continue to

This does and is including you,
You, not the only man I’ve forced away
the only one I hoped would
s t a y

MORNING ROUTINE

Face skinny dips into water
gathered in the sink

Sky jigsaws into leaves
of the purposely-obscured bathroom windows

Damp light begins to wake night
They merge like the pocket-of-air under an accordion skirt or a jellyfish rowing through the sea

Shrinking stars support a toenail clipped moon
soon exhumed by the sky’s deep in thought blue

She hates her job
Until lunchtime
Until home-time

RED SEA

They eroded like sedimentary rocks

He was heavy rain that wore her down

She was crystal forming in place of abrasion

poppy among shrapnel

After seasons of his wicked weathering

She forged a black hole in her brain’s limbic system

Where memories are made, scientists say

She buried him alive in the sink hole of her mind

In it everything they ever did

Every thought, every glimpse

Except for the three kids

A billion seconds later,

She shut the door to his easy shelter

It takes one second of one billion

To find the graphene-hard gristle

a heart of courage

To lose mental torture

and the man responsible

To walk barefoot through the broken glass

To walk barefoot through the broken past

To walk so far, she won’t look back

SEA HOLLY OF LITTLE LONDON

How can one city be another?

I swear that I was there

In this place but feeling there

Miles from the real thing

London commuted into me

The live nostalgia I reeled

angling in, some make believe

That the streets beneath my feet

were southerly

O bell that chimed at quarter past

Was an Elizabethan Royal clock

The passing people passed

With Southern bags from Southern shops

Tourists, tourists

But all the Scousers, no longer Northern

For a moment on Bold Street

I felt the energy of a capital city hosting me

While peeking into eateries

Perhaps it could be Paris that I’m feeling?

Friday night, December 1st

People without plans and those who’d reserved

Students, couples, family, friends

and I’m alone in Liverpool

Ode to be England’s capital

THANATOS THOUGHTS

On this, malignant aridity of a Sunday night

I entertain the thought

Of my dog’s death.

I’ve nursed one before to his final sip

We gave him water through a syringe

Told him it was okay to leave,

To go to his favourite beach

This is that dog’s own son

Who I’m having palpitating fears hereof

Tis why my love is doubled up

He’s his Dad reborn

Grief will be a noose-tight harness

Hanging above all that is good but my

Feet won’t reach the floor to move on

With the loss of our Dad forthcoming,

I hope Mum will laugh again

In broken pieces that will code her grief in

I don’t wanna lose my dog as well

But if I could trade him in

For the man that’s ill

I wouldn’t

He’d sacrifice himself

SLEEPING BAG BLUE

For not a Cappuccino

could I afford

‘Til a Man

waved wealthy hands like a wizard’s wand

As he commuted home from his job

Both of which I had and lost

His change rained

Into my last Coffee’s cup

Another man won’t give

‘Cause he thinks I’m buying drugs wi’ it

Coffee is my poison

He wouldn’t believe me if I told him

—Society’s poison is people’s inability to believe in others—

There are empty houses to home us

Feels like nobody listens and while they dispute our crisis in heated rooms

We are out here, freezing, cold

We are homeless

There are thousands of us and I feel quite lonely about it

How are we a developed country?

Most of the people that pass me

Won’t glance

He did and his kindness keeps my cup

Half-full

For now a Cappuccino

can I afford