On the stairs
talking to someone new
i think
that i knew others
but it didn’t work like that
when they were trying to pull

but the stairs are
a good vantage point
traditional party furniture
stairs and the kitchen table

the house is big
not all the rooms are open
one being full of coats and couples
shagging

but mainly its okay

and though the cellar rooms
were nearly very good
its the stairs I like best
with the landing and
the person I met

and liked, and tried to impress
until taken over
once again
by insecurity
roll ups
and
another bottle of wine

She looks at me
hard
and the pub seems silent
waiting for her call

“Why do you always have to do this?”

i look back
at her
over her shoulder
there’s a clock behind the bar
and I can see that its nearly time

“You always do this.”

If I can get past her, somehow,
I can get another beer in
before the bell tolls the death
of serving

“Getting drunk”

I’m not sure I’ll get away with it
she seems angry
and
its not even that time of the month

“Its not fair”

Finally, something I agree with
looking sadly ahead, as
the shutters come down on the bar
I’ll need to ride the evening
with some degree of consciousness remaining

“I’m going”

And I could let her go, but
I love her
and anyway
She’s got the keys to the hotel

Amended 15 May 2005

The woman I met
at the bus stop
was standing
staring
making notes
and trying to photograph us
so I asked

“What are you doing?”

She told me that
she was putting faces
to names, and
that life is a jigsaw

I didn’t understand,
and she pulled out a
crumpled piece of paper

“Look at this”, she said

It was a cv
It wasn’t mine

“I work in personnel and
I’ve got the CVs of
all of the people who apply”

I asked her why, and she said
that she was
collecting lives

and then the bus came
she didn’t get on
but I saw her, from the window
attaching more faces to names
regardless of fit

life’s a puzzle, see
but if you cheat you can make it work

when you lie back on the hill top
and watch the clouds move
with uncertain speed
sun baking your skin

the birds can be heard
sometimes seen
as they fly, overhead
and
the sounds of the trees
catching the wind

staring out there
on a beautiful day
makes you realise
just exactly how
small
is the world
that still you can’t master

I am saving all my money for a new life
a place with satin sheets
and a butler

I’m looking ahead
for the time when all the bills will be paid
and the food in the cupboard
will be edible

I like the thought
that all this will change
what there is now
and the scope for the future

so I’m staking it all
at one quid a go
sometimes more
on the lottery, and bingo

Your beauty
is a rose
the thorns
your personality
the aphids
me

the sun touches my skin
each kiss, a beautiful cancer
ignored
by the immediacy of a tan

Last night I saw a ghost
a former me
scrawled in a diary like a dying spider

i’d written about my life
thoughts and
feelings

and, shortly afterwards
the pen had snapped
in pity, or desperation

the previous me i saw, a
person i once knew is
now gone

the diaryist denied
replaced by a blogger
in equal decline

You can adapt
your body

and mark the days

with keen
reminisce

Amended 9 March 2018