the big day.
It’s just rain, rain, rain,
all morning,
til the funeral starts,
then the sun comes out –
wouldn’t you know.
the grass is green,
the flowers are beautiful,
the soil is black
and everyone is here.
So let’s begin.
his world.
the owl is calling to me
out there in the darkness
he pulls me away
from my sofa & comfort zone
to listen in wonderment
to his call of the wild
maybe he sees me
through the rain
silhouetted in the doorway
from his perch high in a tree,
and when I sleep
he’ll silently glide down
into my dreams
and I’ll find myself awake
at the top of a tree
watching a shadowy figure
in a distant doorway.
Summer, 1954*
in Tognarelli’s coffee shop she sat & waited
for her friend & cappuccino,
red lips & nails,
and beautiful to behold;
handbag by the chair,
white cotton gloves together folded spilling out.
and our hero spies his chance
and, chancing his arm,
relieves her of her lace-trimmed favours
and, cloakroom-hid,
deflowers their delightful virgin folds
then,
daring all,
stoops unseen amongst the throng and
replaces them as before
and settles to finish his espresso with a sigh
and a cigarette.
the King and I.
I saw Him the other day
pushing a trolley round K-Mart
& He confided, yeah, it’s true –
that He’d just had enough
of the fame & all that goes with it,
so He shaved His head,
got a couple of tattoos
and lives in a trailer park in Arizona;
– still wearing the shades, though,
& the white rhinestone suit,
which, under the circumstances,
I thought was a bit of a giveaway,
but He says that’s cool,
cos everyone just assumes He’s Elvis.
friends.
I am neighbours
to many
to all
in one sense
& see the freshly squeezed friends
arriving for dinner
as the shine
has barely worn off the twilight
John Dough
and the stick girl
steel magnate & trophy wife
mutually attractive
you might say
the jesus nut
and the old bird
with the carcinogenic suntan
the kiss of life
being administered
to someone’s wife
assorted fragments of nastiness
and love
passing back and forth
yes, they’re all there
with their familiars.
friendship.
draw the curtains
fade to jack.
the whether man.
will it rain
will it snow
around these parts
we never know
will it hail
will it blow
the whether man
will let us know
so if you’ve got some time to kill
a pine cone on the window sill
a scrap of seaweed hanging there
watching clouds in the rocking chair
a whether person you could be
and find yourself on prime TV
you couldn’t get it wrong you know –
you’re the whether man on the whether show.
summer long ago*
the smell of your mother
in the kitchen maybe
or doing the ironing
when she breezed past
the cotton smell of her dress
fresh air & meadows
clean & perfume musky shadows lent
to you she was just your mother
always alone & making do
with your dad long gone
to me she was a dream
destined to remain a dream
then you away and I knew
the warm smell of her neck
her hair, I knew her lips
just as I imagined, dreamt,
that summer I knew
the taste of your mother.
epitaph.
It’s time for me to lie down,
beneath the broad oak,
in this land of green pastures,
in this, my England.
Sunday best.
Jesus Christ on a bike
– it’s been hot today.
Silent, dripping sweat
heavy, waiting,
waiting,
waiting.
no breath, no breeze, no respite.
Silence.
And then it comes all at once,
a lusty kiss from God,
the thunderous roar of monsoon rain
on the corrugated porch.
I step out into the warm sweet rain
as it throws up little puffs of dust
in the baking sandy soil
and I am soaked in an instant
as me and the tree-frog exchange
meaningful looks
and the mango & banana trees
throw off their workaday clothes
and don their Sunday best.
the darkness*
she told me all about her dreams
and about a thing called love
I’d never heard it’s like before
so I asked her what I could
she spoke of things beyond my ken
of lands where strange things grow
where little girls & little boys
reap what their parents sow
I asked her where this land could be
& whether we could go there
but she answered that it’s here & now
and I only need to look there
she laughed at me and I at her
as the darkness fell away
she took my hand & softly gave
a kiss of life that day.