The ground falls sharply
May, the wind is wet, slapping in off the sea
One day I shall find my skin again
Taking Dad’s bets down to the bookie’s runner
It is calmer here, amidst the danger
Dinner together, as if it was our last meal.
We worship electric gods
When I enter the hospital where my father is dying.
NOT Not breaking the law
Hornet
Your fingers are swollen
They told me to shave off my hair
In the silence of my room
I think about zimmers and high-waisted trousers
We don’t like it when you kill one of us
They rescued me, fixed my leg
It’s early, almost six o’clock
On the table, two small photographs
They are killers, but they smile at the small children
All my birthdays coming at the same time
Damn this place
Where all that money went missing
Things that are hidden, into the light
To ride wild horses, drink with wild men
The eyes were gone, the heart
As you go on it gets harder
On holiday with the public executioner
Do you know REAL darkness
Songs of praise
The trail dies
With hindsight, of course, I might think different
I step in, it’s warm, I go deeper
No comments:
Post a Comment