Pub night


There’s that couple
I watch flatly, an ugly slice of lemon hanging from my lip
 
A smart purple tie next to me
gesticulating into his beer
 
That song from a dream
gurgling softly in my head
 
A man laughs too loud,
Slaps his knee after every plump silence
 
The pub atmosphere is hollow
and brown
 
On the cover it’s all smiles
Inside it’s grubby ice
 
Walking out I say thanks to the wall
giving up to the night.

Tap


Under the belly of this plane,
mountains:

The piano keys I can’t quite reach
art I can’t quite let rain

(I would like to be drenched)
Cold in the bathwater

Me; a screaming baby
the tap left running

My infant call
hitting all the right notes

Save me a tune
save me from frostbite:

The familiar icy itch
of missed potential.

Do as you did in another song:
slam my talent into a door

Tell it to grow up, get drunk,
dance until the last rays of light

Then, after the funeral,
Only then

Is it allowed to sit shoeless on the porch
whisky in hand and

Exhale