“sorry, I’m so sorry, but do you mind if I put the milk away?”

maybe
I like to muse, there’s
a polished reserve of
serrated kitchen knives
slotted neatly inside
the leg of your pink jeans
 
maybe
you have an anecdote so criminal
that everyone at the party
has to laugh forcefully
into their beers
hiding their secret terror
at your misdoings
 
but for now, the people sigh again
at your nervous giggles and
your paranoia at offending them
 
I think
if pushed a notch too hard
you would dissolve into an
all-American puddle
 

In HD

I stare into the diced tomato on the shelf

I download the app,

I meet the paper faces drifting past.

Dorset

Eating raspberries
Half an hour before
you talked of your sister’s achievements

“Not that you aren’t special too!”

And something cracked
as the heartless man in the car-park
shouted an insult
at your beautiful, shaky-fingered Gran

“No, n-no, that was my fault, it – “

The Dorset clouds gathered
snickered and rained fatigue
all down your cheeks

You’re getting older
drip drip
You’re just getting older
drip drip

And a trickle of failure maybe
through the buttons of your shirt

Holding the creased paper bag
a quiet kind of melancholy softness seeping through
Her and through

your younger body standing next to Her

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.

Three Romance Haikus


Far from the castle

she flies through the mist

and her iPhone beeps

 

*

 

I often pray for

the small patch of hidden light

under my office complex

 

*

 

Could fight for Justice

Could give your life for World Peace

could just go online