All the girls all the time

get some

basic boogie at the bend in the road

overgrown

all the best girls

go at it

all the time

bouncing themselves into tight car corners

the smaller the better

and the better is the best there is.

 

All the girls go mad on a Sunday

skull numb

drinking home-brew breath wet and warm

from an empty coke can

kicking kisses into unknown territory

selling stories

all the bad girls

the worst there is

putting on and off the boil

the longer the hotter the better.

 

All the girls county wide

the finest

give and take each other

with both hands divided

lip split

complicating love with unsuspecting touch

not much

but everything if a touch is all there is.

 

 

WITHOUT GLOVES

 

What makes you turn out into the night?

dog-eared tired

to take your life

with chains and ropes

out on the street

your heart beats hope

misses and skips

a release

no rehearsal

no second glance

zipless romance chance

without gloves

or spectators

your life

given over to random beatings

in the heat of the moment

a casual brush with death

pure white night rush

because they hate us.

 

TRAVELLER

 

Local to no particular land mass

she is a rootless woman

born on the cusp of things

a strange mixture

flavoursome.

 

Family gleaned from the four corners

like spices

thrown to the Lion’s melting pot

roaring hot

she’s dangerous and full of surprises.

 

A life more or less travelled

in the back of trucks

no wonder she has a thousand itches to scratch

to keep herself moving

motion sickness when she settles down.

 

Resident to no particular abode

she moves undercover of the dark

blending into the slow Mediterranean bleed

she is a beautiful passer-by

her own country

a ghost.

 

 

COKED-UP HOOKER

 

Like a coked-up hooker with a cleaver

I’ve got an axe to grind

sitting in the cheap meat seats in summer

I settle in with the flies.

 

The world stage performs

opens up like a void

this is your life

a lot like a popsicle

some of it sucks

and some of it hurts.

 

A jumped up kid with an attitude

the girl on the screen

screams big problem

mouth shouting

finger pointing

points blame into a colourful picture

shocking pink.

 

Up there on the silver

in glorious black and white

mistakes are repeated over and over

she creates a whole new word

refluxology

again.

 

A fuck up with a perpetual hangover

could try harder

but it’s a learnt thing

learning to try

asleep in the gods

the movie has a good forty years left

but I’ve given up trying

haven’t lived them yet.