The Cool Change

John
Bought a motorcycle
To work on
Instead of working on
Getting heroin.

John had never heard
Of zen
Or the art of motorcycle maintenance,
But there
He was.

Until we had five days
And five nights
Of heat
And John
Had no air conditioning.

And John
Got heroin
And John’s motorcycle
Rusted
In the rain
Of the cool change.



Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

Untitled

The blood black ink
Of the pen you gave me
Will soon be dispersed
Across the full moon emptiness
Of my paper.

Its shades of grief
Will cast long strong shadows
Deep into the image
Of moonshine that I created,
For you.

The whisper of that ink
Is as sure as sunrise.
The insolence of youth;
Craving a perfect expanse
Of whiteness.




Parkstreet 

And The Orange Was Made Of Orange

In the good old days
A man took a big block of ice,
Shaved shards into a glass,
Poured cordial
Your favourite flavour
On top.

And the strawberry cordial was made of strawberry
And the orange was made of orange.

In the good old days
There was a riddle,
A man hanging
Above a puddle,
But today no one
Has seen a block of ice
Large enough
For a man
To kill himself
Slowly,
Whimsically,
Using one of the makings
Of an innocent treat.
This hasty,
Throwaway generation
Leaves only an overturned,
Kicked away,
Flatpack
Chair.

And the strawberry cordial was made of strawberry
And the orange was made of orange.




Parkstreet

Ko-Fi

Passing

Denim shorts clinging, pony tail swinging, firm thighed stride of youth and purpose, pert breasted optimism, new, unbroken, passing me by leaving the scent of memory, lost opportunity, the one that got away, denim shorts clinging, pony tail swinging.




Parkstreet

Sing To Your Babies, Sing

Sing to your babies, sing
Of the times to come.
So when the times come,
Your babies will smile,
And sing.




Parkstreet

Burn Your Books

Burn your books
For fuel,
When you are cold.


Burn
Your paintings,
Burn
Your antiques,
Burn
Anything that will burn,
To give you heat,
And light,
For another day.





Parkstreet

When She Turns

When she turns,
He is there.
She wishes
He weren’t. 

He sees her as she wishes she could see herself.

No one
Can live
With that.

When she turns,
He is gone.






Parkstreet