Thursday, 19 August 2010

poem written 9 a.m. on train this morning blah etc


      We drank neat whiskey and wore your parents' clothes,
it was late, and you looked exceptionally handsome -

      And although I knew that lovers were either fools,
or cowards, or both, I let you kiss me anyway -

      August sank over us, riverbanks splintered;
then I caught you snatching a wink from a stranger -

      But with the gates of my heart wide open,
my brain closed shut; and I was blind -

      September came; it smirked,

      shattering the whole dumb charade.

      We haven't spoken since March,

      And today I saw you, at Waterloo Station,
holding hands with the winking stranger -

      He was sipping coffee, you were laughing,
he must have quite a sense of humour -

      I wanted to walk over, to say hello,
yet somehow, I couldn't quite unstick my feet -

      In a daze, I'd missed my train,
there frozen amongst the scream of London -

      So I stood beneath the clock, watching.

      My sad heart, it hummed -


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