1
sun shines
on the grey nostalgia, tripping
over others
who lay out by water lapping
against
bruised legs left out to dry, crying
out for
something to do and calling it sunning
only for
something that keeps them running
2
waiting to
cross
the road together as a
burnished
something
or other
you don’t
notice him
or return
the smile
he offers by way of hello
3
outdoor
music blunging to the bunch,
notes of
reflection against the water hunch
and
memories that flow against as such
causing
hunger, something more than lunch
4
the dark
like stone
sits still
in the dark
and waits
for the flash
of light
that shines
the moon’s
face in
expensive
laughter
and light
5
matinee
ladies
cannot hear
and wear
hats
that are
far too big
6
The woman
giving me a slice
stands
there and asks if I want some
rolls with
that
“we’ll throw them
away
otherwise”
which means
they must
be delicious.
Her son
throws them in a sack
and hands
them over to me.
I feel the
sack, hard and heavy,
filled with
little garlic stones that
haven’t
seen love
in a long
time.
7
I didn’t
want
to do it.
I didn’t
want to do it.
