There are two kebab vans
outside and the late, late nights
are noisy, violent, and smelling
of dubious meats.
It’s a Wednesday night
so one a.m. is late enough:
the fat girls
have all gone home,
is pocked with the yellow slugs of discarded vegetables,
and in an hour or two I may be able to sleep.
A white police car slides through.
Yes, I still believe in love -
what we take for love,
what we take.
When I am in love
I am tail-wagging happy,
as happy as a double-dicked dog.
This is me para-sailing.