Untitled.

Closed doors, scented pillows,
Your hips, lips rubbing mine
Between the willows.

Rustic fences block the
Way. Sodden galoshes,
Cold little digits.

Tea and hot chocolate.
The plague negating chances
Of goodbye kisses.

Hermitage

In your hermitage
the floorboards creek
with journeys for tea.

In your hermitage
the dog sleeps sound
just behind your feet.

In your hermitage
the walls are lined
with other peoples feats.

In your hermitage
notes ring out on
hibernating, solitary ears.

In your hermitage
the curtains touch the floor
but seem to never meet.

In your hermitage
you try to fathom how
your world is not at peace.

Doctor.

I have my personal doctor
Who visits me at home
I call him up, he comes to see me
Whenever I'm alone.

He tries to keep my head in check,
Helps me with my troubles,
Helps me lift the bottle and
Sometimes serves me doubles.

When the sink gets blocked
And filled with recycled leftovers
Out comes the tool box and
The one, the only Mr. Muscle.

When she eventually performed
Her final half pirouette
He said chin up a drinks the cure
and kept me out all night.

Beat.

Remnants of what once was.
The floor gently curved in
From many shoe-stomps.
The views: well seen and
More recognisable than your mum.
The guide quit his job.
Reason: the repetitive, incessant
Questions. He was born ten
Years after the boom and
Only needed the money
For the weekend, now
Regretting an entire decade.

First roll of new camera.

Skyline.

Self-Explanatory.

Have Heart.

Daisies fill your dreams
Centred with brunette eye.
You try to cover your pleasure
In only a thin disguise.
To no avail.