too seriously

oh man

we spent some years together

growing up getting drunk

doing what we could for fun

& then you got take yourself

all serious doing some

you felt important job

& we went along

for a little while more

until the sunny day

we went to the river

flew out on the rope

just hanging there

& you swung out

hadn’t reached high enough

hit the bank with a great bang

& you never forgave us

for laughing right out loud

& that’s how

we remember you now

not the great kid good ideas

but the growed up man

who took himself

too seriously

they loved him

my father there

at the end

red rose on the coffin

all that jazz

people at the funeral

talking up the man

one guy there

worked with the old man 30 years

never knew he had kids

tho’ he’d been to the house

many times over their friendship

I guess like us all

he’d mellowed in his years

but y’have to comprehend

there was something

had made my mother leave

holding us two kids

while she skipped away

with what she can

& I have no memory

being held in love

only hurts from those big hands

I guess we made our peace

finding some grudging tolerance

in the each of each other

we could never understand

takes many forms

I was flattered she was interested

that blonde hair good body

sassy way of talking had me caught

not hard line struck cold deep fjord

more gentle stream trout tickle

gut feeling tingle sweetened by thought

& we were lovers for a month or two

then it was over for reasons not quite clear

& we went back to friendship

some time on this is never mentioned

I feel somehow it’d be rude to talk

ask questions so I abstrusely allude

& she either has forgot

or doesn’t want to know

so I leave these thoughts lie fallow

wondering on the many streams art takes

not just focusing on life forms the nude

the abstraction of love

little splodges

she was a decent enough woman

I’d stay over at hers

if we had a night out

stop in the spare room

big enough bed & duvet

& there’d be a towel there

ready for the morning

as I’d drag my hungover head

out into the shower & go

but I didn’t like the towels

they had these little splodges

a browny blot on the background

a man notices these things

when his head is aching from the night before

& I’d forget between visits

then one night before we went off

she was struggling to put her boots on

I got these little arms she said

can’t quite reach important bits

so I helped her with her feet

& sometime later I made a connection

between short arms

important places

& splodges on towels

& couldn’t bring myself to shower there


after that

then much later

another night out with friends

we were in conversation

& the ladies talk turned to make up

& she confided that she couldn’t get

foundation stains out of towels….

no matter how hot the wash

though the times

she put ‘em through the laundry

yeah I felt like a shit

a lousy friend

a splodge on her towels

on friendship

I do have friends

a very few

to say select few

is to be unsure who selected who

those who love to get me

into troubles

those who will never hurt me

& then

one or two

who have let me down

these are the apres

after disaster ones

whose badness

& mine

I know for certain

we are fickle

us beasts

holding on to each other

for comfort

in a world

that holds sell

as a prime mover

& despite all that

we try to hold bonds

of trust

& dare I say


built over time

good times

& those long mediocre


I can forgive the now

if we have strong history

you have made good memories

with me

without that

life is nothing


can not exist