yo-yo

you you spoke far too soon
’bout your last sandman
’bout that last sandman
’bout your spare fuck man
you you spoke far too soon
’bout men and squirting sex
and bad sex in warm rooms
you you spoke far too soon
’bout a man ’bout your sandman
’bout your sniffed white lines
’bout men limp in your bedroom
you you drunk you you drunk
in a bar with a man not Oman
with a man whom you you knew
a first cousin on your account
first cousins count as last lovers
you you spoke after five hangups
you you answered five before were
five unanswered lies after lies after
you you gave it a week a week
post-valentines after your card
cards swapped rarely by you you
control-alt-delete you you soon

Other Rings

It is not always possible to shake off worn things
such as tightening bonds or shortening memories
Feel them slow on each hour around an empty ring finger
You lost a clasped diamond and made a claim for payment
whilst seeking an arrangement with a rich man’s mounting
On whom you’ll spin with ease around his old stiffening fingers
You were chanced upon – for sale – a maiden’s old tale
Seeking an agreement to include sparkling benefits
Diamonds are et cetera – whilst you lie beside strangers

Coffee?

He walked her to her car
because his rare chance –
a quite rude assumption
of a kiss could improve

Their talk skipped to weather
and about recent high rainfall
and that expanse of blue sky –
those age-old silence fillers

They stood facing each other
He fumbled under his bravado
with a quickened giddiness
of mid-teen awkwardness

even at – his guess then –
their nearly-fused ages
of just over – or just under –
their shared centum of years

How keenly he craved
to sip fresh desire – at his age –
in a pay and display car park
having over-run
his paid-for time

A Dealer Calls

She flipped-into old apparitions
Then Acne-kid stood in her kitchen
with his mouth turned up high
My missus fuckin’ hates me dealin’

One word-blunt white line fixer
He’s still on to it – arf a gram
Fifty quid – No – No more for now
No point-six-measure – or nearishness

but – then – ten longer minutes later
he’ll do one (or – One more for mates)
It runs out yer nose – drips –
She fuckin’ knows I’m fuckin’ doin’ it

But Diamond Wife will not stop talkin’
I live it mate – her drunk mouth says –
One prefers a more tightened wrap –
as opposed to too-loosened stuff?

She likes ’em – those bullet capsules
with grinders
A quick-spun chamber
You’ ve not seen bullets? She hasn’t –
to laughter – You guys got my number?

Reading Circles

Concentric – a new whirlpool-word
found in my father’s
handed down encyclopedia –

when images of Stonehenge –
in line-drawn illustrations –
caught my crawled attention

When an unknown word
required my whole body to shift
and find another heavy book –

an Oxford English Dictionary
to finger flick through to trace
between com and cop to find con

and to be infected
by our endless language
Do not leave me alone with Roget