Sometimes Tuesdays make sense

She comes from nowhere
just appears;
a stranger of cups
suddenly dealt upside down
from a deck
you know is marked by the divine

and so

when you shake hands
another wind god wakes
and starts licking the dice

and so

you order wine
because what more is there to do
when she’s on every chip
you’re playing for
with trembling hands
and earmarked credit cards

The music made no sense

The music made no sense.
I was decaying
one lead beat at a time,
twirling downwards,
The drink in my hand
a dead weight
pulling me toward void,
in an autumn of Everything Too Soon
that I couldn’t stop.

Too old to offer a smile,
too young to matter;
nobody could break out of the mass
surrounding me.
their joy blanketed me like flowers
and they were right, right in
Everything They Assumed.
again I was wrong
in what I was, and where I was,
wrong like plastic tulips at a funeral,
and I saw no way out but
the bus .

It beckoned – a cure for the panic of being here,
of the error
inside and out

I wanted to wring myself dry of me,
to be as pure as them,
but feared losing myself.
I was still a coward
and the fear I carried
was safe
for today,
with no direction besides that of tomorrow,
and tomorrow’s tomorrow

I stayed,
until the warmth
of being surrounded
by the movement of people
pounding a road my feet couldn’t see
repelled me beyond
the threshold of being,
and I realised I was alone
in the crowd

I thought:
Is there a poem here?
but there wasn’t any
so I started walking
through the noise and ethanol mist,
Thinking of
Dogs
and that time
when I danced like my life
depended on it

Famous gold sequins

It’s five in the morning
The taxi is idling
Her dress is so short
That I envy the driver
The windows are open
She tries not to vomit
Both her and the boy
Are texting on cellphones
The rain drizzles in
He’s wearing a parka
Her dress is deep black
And it’s covered in sequins
His hand’s on her thigh
I don’t envy the driver
She slurs “Hounslow west”
And they flee from the centre

I smile to myself
As I walk through the drizzle
I live in zone one
And I’m eating a hotdog