OBLIVIOUS
‘I could have a heart attack
or some
kind of seizure
during the
night and die
and you
wouldn’t be aware
because
you’re out of your
fucking
head on drugs and
wine:
crashed-out and
oblivious
to everything
around
you’
I agreed
silently and
said
‘Yeah, okay’
‘So how
would you feel,
waking up
and finding
me lying
cold dead next
to you?’
I paused
for thought:
‘Pretty
shitty’ I said:
‘So you
wouldn’t feel
like a
selfish, inward
careless
asshole?’ she
asked:
‘I’ve felt
like that for
decades’ I
answered,
‘I’m a
poet’ I said:
she shook
her head
in doubt.
‘Another
fucking
delusion’
she said.
THE TREE
He must have walked
by that
tree countless
times,
noted a
thick branch
high up
and knew
that he
would find
his
freedom:
although
related we
weren’t
close but had
drank
together on
plenty of
occasions:
he adored
wild-life
and
surrendered
time and
money to
this passion,
he worked
and
wandered,
loved and
lost and
finally
found his
life
empty,
worthless,
useless,
painful:
two young
girls
found him
one
morning,
hanging
from that
tree, that
branch
that took
him
to a place
where
he would
hurt
no more.
DUST DARE
I’ve slept with too
many
ghosts,
woken
beneath
sheets
damp with
ancient
rituals,
showered
in the
sleet of
morning
and held
hands with
ancestors
of
night
and now I
am so
fragile
that
even the
dust
dare not
approach
me,
leaving me
safe as
ever
in the
shades
of a time
when
beauty
was in her
infancy.
IN THE FIRST PLACE
‘Where are you going?’
his mother
asked:
‘I’m going
into town
to get
drunk with a few
friends’
he answered:
‘Tell me,
where are you
going?’
she asked again:
‘I just
told you ma, I’m
going into
town to get
drunk with
a few friends’
he said:
‘I’m going
to ask you
one more
time, or else
I’ll get your father’
his mother
demanded:
‘Okay ma,
I’m going to
sniff some
glue and get
high in
the park’ he said:
‘Well, why
didn’t you
tell me
that in the first
place!’
she said before
closing
the door,
satisfied.
SMOKING HEAVEN
‘Do you think you can
smoke
grass in Heaven?’
he asked
seriously
and he
repeated
himself
endlessly
and one
time he
asked me
and I
told him:
‘Fucking
sure,
you’ve
heard the
story of
the
weeding of
the
5000?’
he nodded
his
head
furiously,
‘Yes,
Yes!’
he said
and he
never
asked that
question
again.
