28 Apr 2016

Round peg, square hole




I am it seems
Always
Five minutes away from kissing you
Five minutes from holding you close and
Breathing you in as
When first we met

The need is still there
As strong as ever
A burning and want
But what of those clock hands

Which seem to slip
Or fade
Or are held back from
Ever reaching just the right time
Am I the one doing this?

I blame unseen forces
The universe and Darwin
Einstein and Bohr
How can one
Who needs you so much
So often
Reject all possibility of being held
Close and warm and
Safe

And yet the pattern fits
My constant attempts to fit into
Unsuitable spaces
Incorrect times
Fighting to get in
Fighting to get out

I am
Always
Five minutes away from kissing you
Five minutes from holding you close

I keep coming back to the fire
The constant predictability of change
And how
To just make peace with this
And with you
That is all I ask.


26 Apr 2016

Almost every boss I ever had, including the one that brushed his teeth at work




There is little worse than a man
In a poor suit
Other than one in a poor suit and cheap shoes

Nor are those whose body odour expands beyond
Their borders as intolerable as those smelling of nothing
But
Soap

As though bathed at hospital mere minutes before
And arriving, un-fucked by the city
At the lift in which you too are ascending

They are repellent
And void of life
Lacking the juice of a medium rare t-bone
Or the opposite sex

How unfortunate then
That so many managers and supervisors and heads of
whatever the hell
Look so goddamn bad and smell so goddamn clean.