Grey and overcast,
as i shake off last night
with a walk through an old fishing village.
The alcohol barely makes it
and at 44 i slip
towards
stronger forms of escape…
hanging with the street…
playing without fire…
it doesn’t matter.
Poem 2
no children and no steady employment
leaves one looking…forward to
Friday night conversation
with the cops…
“G do you want to be my best friend tonight.”
“No”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
As me and an old lady
turn a corner
and look for more product.
Poem 3
the books
in my bookcase
have mostly been read
with various degrees
of understanding…
Poem 4
the advertisers target
primitive emotion with technology
Lady Gaga
lets drink, lets dance, let’s fuck
that is not rocket science
but organizing seven billion
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