Most pictures and words from Anthony C Murphy

Friday, 14 October 2011


Me and you do not exist
She always came first
I as usual agreed to whatever it was she said
It wasn’t the worst
Approximation of the state of US

Walk home drunk alone without even a conversation now to warm an ear

I missed out again, missed the meaning or what was meant
So busied my mind with the moon
It was awe
Some star or planet shone as bright
But smaller, no, further out
And there were wisps of grey
No, silver blue, clouds around
As a frame, as burnt away by these two show-offs
I could see Orion too to the south unbothered as he was
All because I looked up

I touched five sycamore trunks on the walk back
They seemed to wear high hats and beards
And snail or slug trails tinseled around them
I said hello to the trees of Clyde Rd
And they waved me on like buddleia by the sidings
As I chugged unsteadily to the station
At London Road I crossed the bridge
And heard the squealings of a vixen
Then witnessed a pairing upon a wall, all brazen
The fantastic one uncoupled himself and high-tailed it
As I rounded the corner
He stopped to check I was not following
Then entered my garden
The little fucker
Home again he led me

And what are my trees?
They need identification
I am surrounded but
The fruit has all dropped
The flowers long gone
The leaves too, soon

Oh, I will be here next year
Unlike some I could mention

No comments:

Post a Comment