twitch like a tired, twigging, swigging, whiskey swilling sod
left in the gutter with a head of hallucinatory, heaving, hellish hello’s
and all you can do is bitterly bitch about the beautiful wenches which rode you down
smudged your lies and callously sniggered about girls in beds
where you were once

your smell is gone now
[like frosting in a mixing bowl]
licked clean
washed determinedly in detergent
hating the thought
extracting the pain
of the fat on the hips

the hatred left over and over in my brain.

stupid rhyme, pathetic in
the absence of the photograph to remember.
but you left like the locket holding the image
the picture, the description of my
not mother, my alter ego.

yes, it’s left, lost, long forgotten, not forget, forgotten
twiddle of thumbs on the bus
I never ride it
but it makes me think, hold my hand in my hand
examine the lines, curves, wrinkles, veins, bumps, lumps, extruding hairs
such remorse
did I really reveal you to the police?

misconduct, professionalism tarnished
we who never set the record straight
but leave the vinyl twisting, turning, returning
to answer in cyclic circles of misgotten wonders

I don’t wonder
never had the inclination to abandon
but I always wonder
ponder on the rational, irrational, irrelevant, irreverent, irrespective
of the consequences
no, very respectful of such
such wonder, not I?

I never forgot the girls in bed
my angelic, quiet friend
never knew she could be such a fiery
temptress up against the door of my car with
you while I sat inside half awake and then ill
we were together that morning at 10am

you were the same man – well age, personality, traits….
when you tempted me to cast aside qualifications, positions, relations
I didn’t take the bar
and you showed me right
girl by girl

sweet seduction
you’d like to tap that

cock in, dick out

baby, you never made it home tonight.

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