Tuesday, October 03, 2017

Into the rainy night

Back with the B.....s again. This time I did meet E.... but also the others and even B......., whom, ostensibly I was there to see. In fact he left me alone for a while and who should come in only E, and we got talking. She wanted to make some point, to harp on about abortion, and there it was, the same old religious incompatibility. It soon became clear that I had to go. It was raining hard outside, but while dressing I couldn't find the coat I came in with. I was looking for it - they have so many clothes strewn around - and eventually took something I'm not even sure was mine, which was only a vest, I think. After that fuss, I thought better of trying to find a box of chocolates that B- had given me earlier, which I had since lost sight of. It might seem selfish to ask after it, and there was still no sign of B-. As I was leaving, going out into the rain, ill-clothed and with a long walk ahead, most of the family, though not B-, was there in the hallway to see me off. Even the reverend himself - tall, smiling, happy. I couldn't really say anything, not about what had transpired, neither the missing box of chocolates, my difficulty with clothes nor the unwanted topic with E-, on my way out the door.

Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Into the shrill

I carry someone back to the flats. The shrilling of evil is all around. One kind friend guides me by, towards the entrance. Another cheerfully leads the way. She has only a clean robotic mechanism exposed across the shoulders and nothing above. But the dreadful shrilling of evil is all-pervasive.

Saturday, August 05, 2017

Summary

I shat myself, I pissed the bed,
I thought this & that, I lost my head,
I loved three or two or one.
That's the autobiography done.

Friday, April 21, 2017

Lost again

In the night town, it is pitch dark. An endless column of people stand in the road, each row of women followed by a row of men. As one, each of the men pins a little padlock brooch to the side of the waist of the woman in front, quickly and easily. I try to pin mine to your waist but tear your dress a little, and so it fails. It's late. Now the last few from the crowd are dispersing and I'm in an empty car park above the park gates, but I can't find you. There is a steep, grassy hill which will be a shortcut down to the railings and the main gate, where I can almost catch up with the crowd. I edge down the narrow beaten track. But halfway, I think I will lose you completely this way, so I go back up to the car park. I think about taxis, but there aren't any at this hour. It occurs to me that I might contact you by phone. At first I try my smart phone. It has a wonderful but incomprehensible display of clockwork wheels and cogs, and I don't know how to work it. Then I try a tiny phone but it's dead. Walking home from town, out of the corner of my eye, a dark figure flits by on the other side. I make my way to some small, unfamiliar Dublin streets, where I'm not sure if there's anyone around.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Square

Dancing is an eco-friendly
way of burning emotions
in the form of joy.
Nuclear fusion occurs when
two people lean together.
There's a burst of heat
energy, and it's renewable.
Transform your misery
into happiness, and that
is alchemy indeed.

Friday, February 24, 2017

At the meeting

It's always in a crowded place, last time a concert, this time a meeting. I am always a little late arriving. When I get to you, I lean my face against yours, so you can tell me something in my ear. I notice you have blotchy skin, and are quite thin. You tell me something, but I can't make out the words.