from the chapbook: unromantic ballads

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08BDSDJM4

keep it safe

if a law against

dresses slit this high were passed

could I be more hip

sitting at a bar

slurping scoops of fizzy pink

minding my own biz

when some cat comes by

businessman in natty togs

smiling what a cheek

can he take a pew

no one’s got their name on them

welcome stranger up

yours we pass the time

talking fast & drinking slow

nothing to remark

‘cept the old malaise

newbie wears a fuzzy face

loose about the jowls

says he’s parked his car

on a brew outside the joint

which is funny cos

nearest slope of note

would be Brownlow Hill about

half a mile inland

then he draws a small

packet from his jacket sleeve

slipping it my way

you take that from me

Honey been so fancy free

I’ll be getting off

indiscrete I lied

should’ve asked to be excused

stead of thanking him

proper cards are few

these days specially when the bars

turn away their trade

see you when I do

giving out his parting shot

so he disappears

***

as the afternoon

segues into eventide

still the night is young

we have sat & talked

through a horror film the bar

staff taken their breaks

happy hour has dragged

on the punters been & gone

midnight bells have rung

stay-behind begun

when a half familiar face

pops around the door

deja-vu or what

could it be some divorcee’s

twin brother-in-law

takes a pew & winks

I have almost upped & left

three times for a smoke

but obnoxious herbs

have a tendency to stink

even when they’re chewed

either that or food

but another gin my friend

then I shall be gone

***

conversation please

nothing heavy crass or crude

parse the port ol’ chum

never was at sea

myself cabin crew nor cruise

must be someone else

he’s calling me out

such a blooming cheek you bad

lad take that & that

gets me by the choke

whispering I’ll have your arse

cursing like a tar

what you got in there

turning out my snapper purse

finds the packet worse

sees I’ve barely ten

bob to go no taxi fare

left to strut on heels

all the way up Bold

Street & past the bombed out church

Leece Hardman curse

worst luck the Cass is

heaving youngsters having fun

keep straight on

Catherine Street & Ma

Ling’s oh giz some chips my love

put it on the tab

feet are killing me

home at last without the stash

filthy coppers ask

anyone round here

who is on the game but them

gotta have a snore

no pay with Prime!