a different kind of love

military town

early afternoon sitting in a café

stirring brown sugar into coffee

listening to military wives talk

& this particular odd group

they love their men it seems

tho’ it’s a different kind of love

than the one seen on tv screens

when they are away

they want them home

& when they are home

they get in the way

their lives are organised without them

raising kids doing the day to day

& the way they talk seems

their soldiers sailors airmen

are just one more awkward child

to be manoeuvred sorted out dealt with

infantilised in emotion ways of being

there but not there somehow wrong

yet wanted needed part of the show

a running still fifth wheel

the door

an off cream thick fire door

hotel regs to last long enough

create an escape

& when people knocked

there’d be a deep muffled sound

probably the insulation working

I’d sit lie still for a while no sound

until I hoped they’d gone

this time of not facing people

the world real life

not that I was having deep thoughts

more I just couldn’t be there

be amongst you others anybody

at Christmas you notice hard the cards

when there’s nobody to send to

valentine’s much the same

& when people knocked

I knew beyond doubt

they were bringing nothing new

anything I might’ve wanted

as I lay sat still waiting

for them to go

to take the emptiness with them

& drunks man

god she was beautiful

could smile to crack a rock

but she was a drunk

& drunks man

are no fun long term

it took a while to find out

she was that way this is how she is

I was just getting into her

& then it was too late

she needs to drink

more than she needs you

or wants to see you

& the flies flock to her honey

everybody loves a good time girl

you have to learn to share her

there are too many to fight off

& nobody likes the possessive type

especially you

she tells you she loves you

even uses those exact words

but the long of it

she doesn’t love you or

the other men she fucks for the booze

it’s the drinking she loves

this addiction the real love of her life

the harder truth being

she does not love herself anymore

other than the glass the bottle

the rush to oblivion

there was a window

& it was all I could do to look out of it

couldn’t be out there in the world

really enjoying the view

while you were moaning on

how I spoiled everything I tried to do for you

I kept on looking seeking grace

while your lips continued moving

distorting that once to me pretty face

thinking I’d surely paid enough

in bringing you here paying for the room

the window framing the view

wondering too how soon I could escape

leave you somewhere good for you

another hotel country town city place

knowing no matter how much that cost

& right now if you hated me

knowing you hated more being alone

but at least then

I would be out there

in the world in the view

yellow & purple stare down

sitting on the kerb with you

drunk again

failing to understand

where everything went wrong

trying to untie a wet knot

soaked in your tears

case hardened by flames

& the streetlights

yellow & purple stare down

creating shadows bruises

where I don’t need blame

I know in this you were clear

I’d made everything go wrong

the faults were at my door

in the low notes you laid there

pushing crimson feelings shame

& saying I love you

will never be enough

to turn back the clock

break it all down

start over again

again

dark curses are upon me

again

& wondering who laid

who what can be to blame

this time

her scorned who I told

I loved would love forever

before I ran away in the rain

her that I fought for truth

only to find darker stains

could it just be

because I came prepacked

born with distorted genes

holding responsibility from crimes before

stretching to times all gone

but for me still keeping score

him who felt my scorn

feeling wounded when told

you talk it you walk it as

anything else is a yellow bore

nowI light candles burn bright

watch them down to their core

recite psalms turn mirrors

return to senders threefold

back to owners scolders not bolders

who will cannot face me tell me

the wrongs done that need righting

holding open doors

clearing the killing floor

barometer

it’s a useful way

of knowing how the weather is

when they call out

close the door!

when you pee first thing in the morning

because you make such a racket

useful as a barometer in the hallway

watching your grandfather bend over slow

to tap couple of times

say looks like rain

indicating stormy weather to come

like you don’t hear her pad around

middle of the night

wander in there

piss like a cow on a flat rock

make that half-hearted ffft fart

pad slow back again

but no its you now

with the bad habits

incoming rain

where there used to be sun