142/ in the night

She stands up,
“Do you like this dress?”
I push past, buy another drink.
She comes over,
I go to kiss her.
“So what was that?” she says,
“Are you sober?”

She pulls me to my feet.
We’re through the door,
into the evening light.

I half turn.

She walks away,
lost in the night.

141/ if I had answers

It’s Saturday night all over the country,
the dance floor is almost empty.

And on we go, talk about things,
I don’t know what,
She uncrossed her legs,
passed me a cigarette
we exchange numbers, this and that.
“So you’re a photographer then?”
“Do you want some pictures sometime?”
I look across at the fruit machine.
Then start something
and forget what I’m saying.
And if I had answers,
I have lost them.

139/ I need a thought

I rush into the busy day,
I need a thought
to take my thinking away.
Outside the house,
I’m in the car, texting;
she can’t change me or my history.
Whatever sadness she brings,
she’s been a good friend.

Every day I get up, go for a drink,
and back into bed I sink.
It was the middle of July,
felt like April;
I was thinking slowly.

137/ watches the world

Her brain is worse than mine,
has a faulty imagination,
believes in her star-sign.
She confuses her thoughts,
and out she goes, with anyone,
can’t get back in, left her bag behind,
makes plans that never happen
lies and tells the truth at the same time,
is cheerful in a depressed kind of way;
I can’t tell where she draws the line.
She watches the world on reality TV,
buys her life on eBay.