no gifts flowers to find

motherless boy

no card to send

on mothers day

no gifts flowers to find

no funeral tears to make

best wishes condolences

to take appreciate

no final words to end

I am a motherless son

never having the love

I read in others cards

tiny notes on flowers

thanking for care

love support appreciation

unconditional regard

a life given held hugged

the bestest friend

not asking for pity or sorrow

save these for things we lose

have taken away

for such we miss

just to understand

when you make your

sweeping generalisations

about how mothers

make the world go round

some of us

must do this ourselves


daddy issues she says

as I huh hummn along with it

I’ve met the man in question

fella makes the right noises

seems caring about his little girl

& mumma is decent enough

cooking cleaning

as we drop in around three

& they talk as we guys sit

watch the game talk some too

later as we eat the conversation turns

well your daddy will talk about that

& no one is looking at me

though my third ear lights up

listening for the undertow

later she tells me

how her daddy dropped the bomb

figuring as she had me

was making her own way

they felt less inclined

to be involved financially

how she hated him his ways

tight control of money

& I asked best as I could

so this is only your dad

your mumma had no input or views?

& apparently I’m a typical man

I just don’t understand

days of wander

thumb in the wind

hitching 200 miles

go see if the ‘rents were in

could handle my face

hard rides of wandering hands

offers to suck my cock

pay to see it please

occasionally women

wanting to feed

take me home mother me

endless moments of

here will be fine drop offs

middle of nowhere

where even the horses stare

walking walking

in the rain the snow

sunshine days not caring

stopping to write thoughts ideas

slip slide the mask of bum

be the writer poet troubadour

until the world turned again

finding them not home

or no welcome today

walk out of there

begin the return journey

no shelter no love no feed

no recognition of journeys made

wishes hopes dreams left there

my only salvation the road


solid gone

the kid I knew

I was looking past

the weight gain

change of threads

bordering on grey

some kind of fawn

straight into those eyes

I remember blazing

night ‘til dawn

ideas riffing

moving 100 miles an hour

& the guy was gone

solid gone

that bright soul no more

spiritually dead

zombie living days

& I asked him

wassup man?

& he told me straight

nothin’ man

just bored y’know

life ain’t fun no more

the barroom

I knew

the barroom

long before I got there

the taunts whispers

from ne’er do wells

who would wish you

ne’er do well too

in case that would

show them in a true light

the sneers

pulling down of hopes

wishes dreams

to keep you on a par

the falsity of smiles

claps on backs

two faces to the fore

veneer encouragement

glad handing back slapping

more in the hope

of brief entertainment

than care

for these were the people

who raised me

(oh apple pie beneath the wings)


days walking to

from school

friends houses

singing to myself

more of a muttering really


poorly sung mondegreens

happy as a pig in snow

& now

the same songs

I can read the lyric

understand the words

bouncing on the screen

finally getting the import

ideas the writer

was trying to show

but people being people

I still sing the mondegreens

from long ago

(oh apple pie beneath the wings)

played myself

cooking chunky soup

lemongrass carrots

green beans onions pak choi

celery bit of leek

I reached for the chillies

chopped them

& set for simmer

sat down with coffee to read

wait for the pot to roil

feeling my eyes tired

taught aching

& I thought of you

goodbyes in summer


until I realised

I’d played myself again

washed my hands

rinsed my eyes

tried over