My mother always put on a posh voice when she answered the phone
unless it was his sister
Your sister is on the phone she would say.
His face would light up
like at no other time
and he would run out to the phone.
Grab the phone and put his hand straight down his pants.
Big smile on his face
He never put his hand down his pants when he talked to anybody else.
Guess he really loved his sister.
The young Polish girl on the beach told the same story to the young man she had just told to the polish girl
the only difference being that she told her in Polish.
All I heard was the pepperoni and the salami but it was enough.
The clouds have rolled in from the sea now
and I get up to go.
Just as well I have no desire to hear that story again
Pepperoni and Salami
I am just a man
not an honest man
not a particularly good man
I do very little
but every day I have a hope
that I can change
I can become that butterfly
I can bring something
so great to the world
that everybody will accept it
so you see that is why I write
and that is why I can never become a Christian
as much as I want to believe that
that guy died on the cross to save the world from sin
to give everybody the chance to start again
as each new day starts I believe I really can be different
but know most days will end in the same ultimate fashion
so it is a circle
one that cannot be broken
not for a man
or a god
there it is
it is everywhere
but nobody looks too much
me I look
and sometimes I see
and I can feel it too.
The birds sing in Cantonese
a certain woman has a certain sweetness
the swirling white helicopters that
come from the lollipop flowers
sweep the garden
and all seems right with the world
just for a little bit
but it is
I wonder what people see
when they look into my eyes
A possible murderer
They try to escape
but I hold them in for as long as I can
I don’t know why
perhaps it is so I know I am alive.
I went into the coffee shop
the guy took my order
and asked my name.
I looked at his name tag
it was Luke
Between us we have half the gospels I told him
He told me the coffee would be at the end.
No religious conversations today
I sat in the café
nursing one of those drunk twice in one day hangovers
watching all the people talking about who knows what
watching clouds roll by as I run one lip against the other.
As I left
I wondered why I shaved my beard off
then I remembered
free will is not all it is cracked up to be.
I walk past two young women
sat on the floor
one looks at me and says
He is not a very nice man.
I say me
I am lovely.
She doesn’t reply
but I think she may know me better
than I know myself
I had to die so I could be reborn
that part of me is dead forever now.
He will never come back
can’t say I liked him much
filled with self doubt and pity
searching for excuses and settling for an easy life.
No I’m glad to be shot of him
now I can truly be who I want to be.
who is that knocking on the door