Pothole

Today I've been in my head too much ,

I found my way through the thoughts of others, which is pure guesswork.

The route I know so well, every shortcut, junction and pothole.

Tomorrow I hope to get out and walk.

When did the wheels come off?

When did the wheels of the world come off? 

When a picturesque valley wasn't enough. 

Was it 7 down cider heartbroken teen 

Stumbling on from childhood green

Or failed collective action against a war, 

No amount of death to settle any score 

Shareholder dividends melting ice caps 

while the masses continue to feed off scraps 

When did the wheels come off? 

Or have they been since day dot. 

Messy divorce

And they parted but sent receipts, painful threads in which they'd compete - made photos public of duty free, air miles, blonde beaches, olive skin, teeth white laser grins, the kids cosy with the new partner to really stick the knife in.

And on the beaches with the palm trees and the factor 50 sun they still weren't as far apart as they'd become. 

Additives

I've had my additives and cursed the day, I've wandered again to my wantaway - Summer, another town , anonymity,  unemployment,  none are far fetched but miles away

A series of goodbyes

I'm up to my eyeballs with the hard stuff

losing folks, losing trust

asking what got the better of us?

Settling in to a series of goodbyes

like a western on a wet afternoon. 

and now and then I buckle at the knees, 

I long for the old guard, trip in a heartbeat. 

I see my youthful pedestal from the ground, which  lies next to yours

The social norms, the politeness, the ettiquette, leaving us in the past,

 playground.

The night bus

The night bus 

under tangerine halogens

every face tired and stressed

the bus has us compressed

spiralised in the eyes

until it's home time.

And I can tell everyone here 

has a level of debt 

to ensure

they'll do it all again

tomorrow.

Your last rights

So, are you ready to let go, to retire

to anonymity...?

To stop being a child of the past 

 To raise deafness to old times 

When you do this...

you will feel cerebral and numb

And there'll no longer be a place

on a pedestal for anyone

But you can start to enjoy today. 

Fix eyed dance

I mourned her exit

I learnt  I'd hear nothing 

but radio silence. 

I knew the lights were up 

on the fixed eyed dance.

I'd have to learn a different stance. 

Life is boom or bust

for who is quickest to adjust, 

at saying goodbye.