BALLAD OF BAMBI AND HER

after work fri pm.

been an ok day/been breathing again

but am alone now

and it goes like this;

breath away teary jag over the blog desk posting my efforts for routine.

breath away teary jag over the writing desk

falling fast

and

failing to write anything new again.

tangled up tight in barbed wire

i’m wobbling and wandering the rooms/the cold bare bathroom of stains/the clutter kitchen of dull dishes dark as the sun falls.

i’m trying to tidy thru terror tunnels and

black blinkers and

a

hot

waterful.

my tidying and dinner preparation is no good at all.

(i have a beautiful home/i cling to this)

cold hands sweat on the tile desk looking thru the battered white blinds hoping for the hatchback bringing Bambi.

the street

stays suspiciously silent/one old man

we used to joke about

out there.

this is not going good/it goes like this;

these hot jags/this burning

thats

behind my thin face

and buried deep inside my baby heart-

its all free now/comes out in hot jags

of

future panic of EVERYTHING

and

existential fear of EVERYTHING.

of

life/the way it is/the way it was/the way its going to be.

of

the cloud thats Past/the black fog thats Here.

of

chemical imbalance untreated

and

the WORK to do.

of

the select life experience of a stoned stubborn shut-in.

of

the negative traps i fight every exhausting Groundhog Day.

of

late realisation of real things i forgot i wanted.

of

love/life/loss that real adults take in one sad stride.

of

destructive heat of 1000 feelings blast me into volcano.

of

scalding barbed wire suit worn in the tinted tunnels i wander.

(i have a beautiful home/i cling to this)

so its not going well/its going like this;

reading the too true words i wrote/reading between my own lines/reading the obvious statements . . .

NOW

i can hear the screams/NOW its all I hear.

THEN

it was recording truth with no thought for my ownself AT ALL.

so its not going well is it?  when the scotch doesn’t work

and

the tv is only moving colours that don’t engage/when i cant read

and

cant write

and

i fight negative traps all and every Groundhog Day/only to

find

them

waiting

30 seconds after waking/monsters of hot knots tied tight

in

my

angry guts

30

seconds after waking.

monsters take my dinner and deny me breakfast.

i DO have a beautiful home (i cling to this/repeat this and read

over and over

the tatty printed email that calms my nerves).

it goes like this;

i text babble thru tears/actually my frightened fingers

text

babble

by themselves/cancel it - i sent it . . . it doesn’t matter.

i only need a dr now.

BUT

i have moments of clarity/ACTUAL ones

not

only

5 drinks in/because scotch doesn’t work anymore.

so clarity

like

a diamond/like i am a man/like i can see

and

i KNOW

and

i FEEL

and

become so OK and HUMAN SAD with the knowledge

the knowledge

the knowledge

the knowledge . . . that/AAAAH . . . shit.

its not going well/its going like this;

(i have a beautiful home and everything is ok/i cling to this

among all the words I CANT hear

on the tv

and

out innocents mouths).

Bambi drives up.  i go out there.  i plan to cry on her

out here

in

the suspiciously silent street

(i haven’t lost her/i haven’t lost anybody/i cling to this)

and

i feel the burn inside my face

and

1000 emotions flood out my torn muscle

and

i’m sniffing like a cut knee kid

and

my arms are reaching

and

shes out the car/opening the boot

and

and

and

she holds up an Early Leaning Centre shop toy in bright plastic.

a till and basket and shopping to buy.

an

unsure smile on her face.

its going bad/its going like this;

i say WHAT? and the tears are gone and

i

know

she

was

hoping for a better reaction.

(i cling to the things inside the brackets/i have a beautiful home tho its cold

and

my

legs

feel

broken

all the time)

well, in the kitchen i lay it out.

i have one hot jag

and

i

burn

our dinner/we’re both drinking/drinking for dinner tonight.

i lay it out.

i lay it out.

and Bambi lays out home truths/on the new cat scratched sofa

she

says

YOU WANT ME TO SLAP YOU?

i

say

YES.

Bambi slaps me 6 times.

(i have a beautiful home/Bambi loves me/she says

this

100

times.

i believe her and i cling to these things)

burnt dinner left on the coffee table

and

spilt in the kitchen i say LETS GET YOU MORE BENSONS.

(i haven’t lost her/she said she always here for me/don’t romanticise it she said/i nearly laughed/cant say that to a poet i say/i cling to these things

and

remember

EVERYTHING

she

says

to me)

now its going better/we’re drunk and it continues like this;

now i don’t drive

but

Bambi throws me the keys/i cant even get them in the ignition.

her

exasperation

is

comical.

i drive till I need to do a 3 point turn/then get out.

(Bambi said theres nowhere else she’d rather be/i cling to this/i have a beautiful home/i cling to this and i haven’t lost her/no one has died/live your life/haven’t lost her/aways here for me/i cling

to

these

things)

Bambi is driving up the shop dancing/shes on wine 2/i had

fat

chunk

of

gin.

Bambi drives up to the shop layby/doesn’t turn/bumps up the kerb

and crawls

over

the wide path parking the nose an inch from the shop.

hilarious its hilarious/i cling to this and go in for fags and wine and whatever.

NICE PARKING says the kid behind the counter.

WATCHED YOU ON THE TV.

the tv

is filled with hatchback dark in B&W.

(hilarious its hilarious and i cling to this)

i don’t drive but i drive back in first gear booze laughing.

its

easy

swinging

the

wheel.

(so she made me feel real/she still does/i had real feelings/still do/just repressed them to migraines/i cling to this on the knife edge

i

walk

in

the struggle fog
of

Groundhog day)

Bambi tells me home truths.

i lay it all out.

the tunnel is wider/glass less black.

Bambi is a bad checkout girl when we play shop.

Bambi throws all my M&S shopping around the room.

Bambi tells me home truths.

we

get

drunker.

we

play

music.

we

get

melancholy.

(i have a beautiful home)

i sleep some

and

 

Bambi helped

but still

my

Groundhog day goes on.