Drub betas on the roof, fingers tapping the tiles.
I peer outside, past two windows.
It's pissing it down.

My room is covered with someone else's boxes and belongings.
My own things contained on one lonely round table.
"I just want to get everything put away before Friday."

Bags of rubbish surround the bin,
"What should I do with this Mr?"
"Put it in the bin, it's all rubbish."
Soon the floor is covered in papers.

Isle after isle of the same thing,
73 kinds of chocolate - all of the contain nuts.
37 varieties of washing powder.
Buy one get one free.

World Strongest Man:
1985.

Friday night television.

Excited children walking down the street;
Teachers on the look out;
What for?
The children are too excited to notice.

Silhouette of the leaded window on the wall.

Golden sunlight.

Curtains glowing.  

Sweet, sticky, onion coating,
Hot from the toaster,
I spread on the butter and cream cheese,
What now?

Gazing out of the window once more,
Orange light glows on the window frame
Agitated trees reflected in the neighbours patio door.

I smash the ice cubes on the table,
Tip them into the glass,
Pour in the juice.
Now.

Smash!
Shooting pain through my face.
What happened?
Hit by a door.
Could be worse. . . .

Uncomfortable seats, row after row.

Officials isolated behind glass.

Scant comfort offered by the hot drinks machine.

How much longer? 

I am surrounded by papers and Post-It notes,

Plastic wallets waiting to be filled.

Dinner is almost ready.

Three red buds in the distance:

Balancing on a green totem, 

Steady in the breeze.

Nestled in a purple blanket, 

Deep coco smell, 

Teeth crack through the outer layer,

Soft, sweet centre.

July Small Stones

Wafts of apple fruitiness.
Air freshener?
That smell shouldn't be here.

Bluebells in the wood,
countless flowers.

10.16pm
dog bark decrescendo
rain
sirens
Friday night

Sheets flicked back quickly across the bed
fluorescent light casting a yelowy glow
just sat down

Shreds of orange and lemon suspended in amber liquid
The pot bubbles
Eventually it sets

Her young voices cracks.
They said they don't want to be my friend anymore.
What can I do?

"Are they real?"

All of the animals are real but they are stuffed with fluff.

"Are they real?"

Wrinkled skin filled with scarlet juice,
bleeding across the chopping board.

Red lights, lining up,
Squeeze the breaks,
Traffic ahead.

Pages of neat printed writing,
Endless ticks one after the other,
End of the book.

Pink bleeds through the fading sky
Another sunset

Grey-blue clouds painted above the housetops.
Cool empty sky.
Only one light up above.

Beans bubbling away in the saucepan;
Apple, mustard, molasses, chilli, garlic, onion,
Winter curls slowly upstairs.

Monochrome buddha sitting still
Just as I am

End of the meal,
Feeling in full and warm,
The hot water and heating have broke.

Chubby bald dragons,
Duff beer people,
"Writing is hard"
The Simpsons

Amber split peas bubbling in the kitchen
a few minutes later dinner is on the way

Walking to the compost bin,
Where did all of the mushrooms come from?
Magic.

Arctic fingers pressing the phone against my ear.
What happened?
Car wreck

One track mind:

time

for

bed

Two weeks on holiday - Two days back at work.
Eye lids asking to close tight shut,
Worn out.

Stepping into the shower.
Too cold to undress,
Hot water soothes me.

Feeling the slippery pieces of butter disintegrate into the flour.
Only the outside is melted.

Watching carefully:
4.30.  It's already dark.

"Happy New Year!"

Was the old one happy?
Just a handful of small stones stand out;
The rest crumbling into dust.