Here will be houses

Mike Bell/ August 19, 2021/ 0 comments

Among moulting thistles &
below lengthening shades
formed by summer bloom
[auld urges commissioned

by time] – it’s here I shelter
from a deluge of showers –
that pissing-off overhead –
I could lie down [now] – go

native in this meadow – I’ll
have no company & still be
crowded out by memories
[Leave ’em be – Michael] – I

will sleep well tonight with
a dry stomach – count each
blessing out – I was regaled
with more horror stories – A

circular walk across land to
be built upon [brick work &
debts piled up] – This won’t
relieve those auld recalls of

flirted-at tradesmen bent to
hammering overhead – I will
move away before this field
is filled by tarmac – our new

ghost-estates – before I stay
mired in this inbred town in
need of distraction-fucks – I
see wives lie with open-legs

& husbands strapped down
by porn & alcohol – My walk
will lead me back to where I
left from & where I’ll depart

without reminders or reverb
of too-long wed – to depart
from grasses & ignorant ants
to find my settled single bed

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