I sit here, outside, in this Sunday street,
with one coffee, one sandwich, one Marlboro Light.
My two buttoned coat is loose on my frame,
wasting away from the inside out
but my heart is strong, my love is true,
even though the wench beats me
till I’m black and blue!
His explosion of laughter blasts those that pass by,
Mind your own, don’t look, as she tickles his chin,
whispers sweet nonsense, will-o-the-wisp,
to his bold serenade of some faraway folksong.
I sing to you, darlin‘, of the nights we shared,
warm wine mellowing our minds,
the curve shadows mirroring your hips wild roll,
before I read to you their imaginations,
conjured pearls of rhyme magicians,
smooth laudanum lies that end too soon,
chasing clouds across the waning moon.
Their hands loosely lace in a finger twine dance,
calloused tips drum on the hot metal top,
his tune recedes to a playful hum,
a beat that sways his frayed lace boot.
Look at them sitting, their grey faces strained,
flickering glances as they judge me, fear me,
their broadsheet pulp fiction spelling death and despair,
the devil may care…
the devil does care,
but they choose to pity me!
I pity them their bitter sweet irony.
His ice eyes dart, a glacier trap,
a mother curls her baby closer,
children mutter, hushed by shame,
as his cheeks glisten with her tears.
Will you stay, my love, just for today?
I try to hold them back, I try,
but one more, they say, one more pill to push you away…
for they will hurt you, you know,
and they will pull you apart, piece by piece,
tear your spirit from my soul
and your screams will drown in my heart.
Long, curled nails tear the bread, the ham, the cheese,
he mutters, tosses feathered pests a feast,
their frantic fluttering pleases him,
growls a chuckle, eases up, stoops low,
Will you help me home, lighten these limbs?
I know I shuffle as you skip so pretty,
but please, take my arm, rest your head on my shoulder,
let your curls fan my cheek in the breeze.
Maybe lie with me, kiss my eyes, my lips,
embrace me to ease this dark ache
and send me a promise, my sweetheart, that I will not wake.
(This poem has been podcast here)