Walking around, with my wide eyes open –
I saw the old ones,
fat ones, black ones;
I see all the women,
the men,
and the young ones,
I’ve seen all the blind ones,
the thin folk, the drunk!I saw the skankers,
the hairless,
the white,
the folk for the daytime –
the shadows of night. I see all the strangers –
the redheads,
the cripples.
My eyes seek their staring;
their blind selfish walking.
The boring,
exciting,
the stunned and the stars. But my watching is wasted…
As these all pass me by
they’re all of them
solo
just their image is mine.
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Turbulent, mindful and full of delight
Mortimer sits through day into the night.
Aware that his being there’s not wholly right,
silent twitches and grins, though, are all that’s in sight.When all of a sudden night falls, and all’s dark
Mortimer crawls out from under his Snark,
Pulls all his hair out which signals the start,
and wanders alone to his midnight sweetheart. Way up a hill down the wrong end of town
the last drips of water slip onto the ground,
from a succulent body wrapped warm in a gown.
And Wanda, all fresh flesh waits, for love to knock round… Reflected moon shimmers off Mortimer’s head,
as he passes some bars where the punters – long dead – argue intently of pitches that bled
from Saturday games beamed direct to their heads! A bang and a whoop and a crunch at the door
wakes Wanda, who slumbers-
through dreams of amour
She shouts down like chocolate
I’m on the 3rd floor.
Then soon she hears (bouncing up stairs) Mortimer. Lights from her face guide the man on his way
through doors that swing open to bliss where she lays.
As tightness envelopes them in all of loves ways,
these lovers embrace this sweet time and for days.
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