Shortly after closing time
outside my unknown church -
feeling a stone's frore
off dead men and women
upright as chiselled recalls
and staring - all - in disbelief
at that zealous parish priest
who dolls up as a spectre
A welcome departure
from his-biking leathers?
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Another northern beer –
Timothy Taylor’s –
and a decent steak
with Lord Rees
in a pint-sunk pub
in Upper Shincliffe …/
Here Ho Chi Minh – under
his pseudonym of Thàn –
served travellers’ pastries
on a French ship routed
from Newhaven’s docks …/
I choose a minutes slower
route within Google Maps
Such a lottery takes us longer
as we drive through mid-Sussex …/
Our shaded half
hides me from heat
Year in and out
we seek a shelter
My solution
is to meet curtains
right before
sunrise and shut
out each degree
increment of hate
and stupor
in this house
whilst others fling
and swing - by hinges -
openings to
let warm winds in . . .
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When swamped Noah’s Woods
have re-seeded above sea rises
When they have been reinstated
that connection …/
She then struck out
with an open hand
to land callouses
and a creased palm
flat and fast across
my unshaven cheek
Unexpectedly received -
her flesh-reddening hate
applied five digits wide -
a gold ring-smacked slap -
it was my mother-in-law's
barely risible routine
All because my . . .
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It is a highly successful
coloniser of wasteland
and not at all in danger
Both my Google Lens
and a quickie Wikipedia
yielded to your knowledge …/
Soft disturbances by a welcome breeze
have woken me – along with crept daylight –
as my room’s weighted curtains dance …/
Cure me –
please –
of fatigue
If of nothing else – if you can –
without causing side effects –
leaving me somewhat replete …/