how come

he’s bored he says

there’s nothing new in the world

nobody got much to say

of interest vitality worth

& where to start?

are you getting out much?

I try as preamble

no man it’s all a ball ache

the queues the lines people

money to spend

the box?

yeah I watch mebbe 3 or 4 channels

the rest is drivel y’know?

reading? I go

everybody good is dead

the new is just a rehash

newspapers are dead trees

full of opinion that don’t count

yeah yeah I get I say

I wonder just how come

you’re bored…

gone

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

what kind of beast

where I lived

getting over you

over me

shared bathroom

on a dark hallway landing

leading to a faded cream door

double bed

chair by the door

next to the chest of drawers

a counter dividing the kitchenette

sink top hot plate fire door

to the steel escape & window

looking out over the city

rooftops dead chimney pots

that I painted more than once

on cardboard box tops

that you probably threw away

gone to landfill

lino & thin carpet floor

what kind of beast

deserves more?

creation

a wanting thing

pretty is as pretty does

where I projected upon

wanting her to be a good

whole decent human being

& being beautiful

she had never worked

at any of that stuff

never had the need

but I had yet to know this

putting my wishes hopes

fantasies dreams

into her dead place soul

but first I thought her love

being a slow child in feels

I built her & me up

wanting this to be more

than a one way street

worse of all I found myself

waking up bringing my hurt

in a sad sack all of my own

creation

& says the Jesus

the devil is waitin’

though where & when

is not clear yet

I guess the answer there

lies in the details

& the pastor told me

I can put off that day

his friend Jesus

he surrounds me

all I got to do

is surrender

take on the life

I should’ve taken

a long time ago

& all I ever wanted

was peace

some money

a place to rest my head

in living the devil

makes that easier

& says the Jesus

can look after me

maybe when I’m dead

almodovar

crimes of my mother

the first big one

was running away

with the tv repair man

leaving her kids behind

the second was leaving me

with the memories

of her frightened terror’d face

& with the people

who gave those to her

they hoped I had no memories

of her & those times

but I did

there were other crimes

but these are the ones

that matter most

in the life of a frightened kid

& there never came an apology

any understanding from her

that they were the same to us

as to her

& to make the point clear

she ran away again

no forwarding address

no phone

& she was dead five years

before I found out

Newe

nothing brings my feet to return

knowing nobody in the land I was born into

my ancestors are long dead

buried burned scattered I know not where

the few people who say they know me

have not spoken heart to heart

sat to listen in a thousand moons

the last time we sat they spoke

of the many things they had said done

& when I tried to say I too have soared

they could only see me in terms as a child

of who I had been in the way back when

fear holds their feet to the ground tight

limits their thoughts ways of being

& to think of me as a forsaken child

hurts them because they did nothing

felt they could not get in the way

yet see no hand of theirs in my making

while I felt the lack of theirs every day

I grew strong without them their ways

& of all that scares them that is the most

a spirited child who found their own way

who in the end learned not to need them