NO LONGER A WINTER BOY

long winter of 

morning baths &

early lunches & 

the cat sleeping  

just where i want to 

stretch out next 

~ 

a derelict bridge halfway 

over give or take

wooden handrail cratered 

by cigarettes &

the black water is 

moving but only just 

~ 

i am suit tense but 

pyjama wasted & 

waiting on the blossom & 

breeze to make the air 

air again as i am no 

longer a winter boy

FREEDOM TASTING LIGHT

bmx on the streets
moving
moving
moving
solo rider making time
hunting peace in motion
streetlights blinking on

teardrop tubing
mx brakes

faux-italian cursive
on my jumpers tit

the freedom tasting light
when i tasted it

MY END OF THE STREET

theres 
a 
sick man 
sorting and creeping 
thru
his 
hoarded kipple hes keeping
in
black bags stacked and tumbling
in
his
suffering ma's driveway 
her
house
already stuffed to the ceiling
and
next
door
a bad man is swearing and shouting
at
his
daughter whos wailing and crying 
and
hysterically pleading
between
his
endless
decorating drilling and remodelling
and
then
suddenly they are all moving 
and
theres old guys slowly walking
to
the
shop
for
papers for reading
stopping and gossiping 
about 
britain declining
and
the kids i used to see cycling
are
grown
now
and 
shoot around in hatchbacks driving
away
from their bungalow
that
echoes with arguing 
front 
door 
always 
open 
behind a ford cortina rusting
and
me 
i am bleeding 
from cuts i keep making
when 
shaving and cooking
between
escalating curtain twitching
bad
sleeping
and
dr visiting

from curbsideclassic.com