Wednesday, 24 July 2013

Portrait 5

 cortical folds showing
                 on a kindly head

     the feelings swung
               in set out space

"Duncan, I'm having a fag".

               off with his blue flat cap his crown

  He says/ he doesn't say
               what's what

            flickering

                a rum and black
     in Weymouth                     drunkenness

         water    water           soft crushed face

       We eye each other up
    knowing the trick
            and keep the laughing     almost hid

"Goodbye, All!"

"Farewell!"

"Adieu!"

       A scratchy music hall number
                          playing out somewhere

    What time's home?

4 comments:

  1. this strongly reminds me of last Saturday....

    ReplyDelete
  2. :-)) you got it.
    Nice poem, I sometimes forget to mention.

    ReplyDelete