when i knocked at his door
on school-out mornings
his mum always answered
hungover & put out
smoking a superking
in her dressing gown
jeans on the ironing board
vodka soda on the side
& she would shout for him
up the stairs like for a dog
& we would go out on bikes
to wait the morning out
on a building site
pissing in the crevices
or down some alley
rolling with the nothing
cos really
i dont think we got on at all
we were just at the same school
with compatible video games
in 1984
or thereabouts
theres
been
no water
running
in
the
town centre fountain
for
at least 20 years
&
today
there
is
an
abandoned mountain bike
ruined & twisted bad
under
the
strange naked sculpture
of
mother & child
i am wondering
if it adds anything
artistically
&
am leaning towards the affirmative
when
a
street cleaner
gets off her
hoover cart
&
huffle-puffing blasphemes
drags the fucked bike
over to the good bikes
locked
up safe
against
the
precinct square railings
i admire her pragmatism
&
assume this
is
not
her
first rodeo
from gladfish.com
kids on bikes
puffed up
polyester
fledglings
i forgive you
for thinking
that this
is your turf
i can share
from basementrejects.com
