Old Steine Gardens

Tidy grass – trimmed for visitors – On a gull-shat-
lawn a drunk falls apart  & is fenced by shunting

traffic [stop-&-go] – it’s a seaside town’s summer-
of-fun under chalky hills & above a shingle heel I

drink coffee alongside it all – cool in August whilst
Europe burns – smell it – I seek boundless bliss in a

kiss me quick – not here – my dog mutters nothings
at my heel – we will sleep well tonight after a game

of football & beers – Such is my life – of premiership
distraction between days of invoicing endeavours –

as I plan my great escape from Sussex & each snide
remark [each whored day of it all will shift off-shore

until I’m withdrawn from hauls of disapproval] – As
murmurations spin above a rotten pier my eyes mist

over – not quite tears – as I rise & pull my dog away to
a walk [again] we end our sipped minutes & stroll on