Fixtures

Assorted Poems, Some poems

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love nothing more
than to commune with Mother Nature.
But what can I do? It’s out of my hands:
Nigeria are playing Croatia.
 
What’s that? Another meal on your own?
You’re quite right, there is nothing bleaker.
But this is the big one. I’ve waited all day.
Switzerland – Costa Rica.
 
Sorry I shall miss your mum’s funeral
but I should be there in time for the wake.
Do understand, it’s Morocco – Iran
and for both teams there’s so much at stake.
 
I see that you’ve filed for divorce.
I’ll sign the papers as soon as I can,
just ten minutes more (plus time added on)
of Colombia versus Japan.

onion

Assorted Poems, Some poems

when Jane described Clarence
as being like an onion,
he was thrilled to think
she saw him as multi-layered,
with such a lot going on
beneath the surface that
only after much peeling
would the revealing
of the real Clarence
become apparent

and so, later,
he was disappointed
to hear that she was referring
to his purple-red, papery skin
and the fact
that he would
occasionally emit
a volatile gas
that would bring tears
to her eyes

failure

Assorted Poems, Some poems

five years passed
before Denise
admitted to herself
that they were never
going to get it together

yes, they were close
but it was like there was
something missing

and although they
worked on it together,
talked things through,
looked at it from all angles,
tried new things out
(this way and that),
it never seemed
quite right

why Mike should think
that flat-pack assembly
was such a good idea,
Denise would never know

Little Poems

Assorted Poems, Some poems

She would write
little poems for me,
and scatter them
around the house,
like unexpected confetti.

Elliptically cryptic
in construction,
these notes of seduction
defied further
deduction.

2 tins toms, read one,
Cuc x 3, caulie, bread rolls.
Dead Sea Scrolls
would be decidedly
more easily
deciphered.

I came to adore
these lettres d’amour,
and would secretly clamour
for their post-it-note
glamour.

Boiler on blink. Phone man.
said another.
Dinner in dog
whilst perhaps
not the prettiest
was one of her
pithiest.

Prosaically profound,
part-Ayres, part-Pound,
her poems
would confound.
I hate you
And I hate your stupid face.
I am leaving you.

was the pinnacle,
so crisp

and so clinical.

Such a shame
she disappeared
shortly after that.