un homme et une femme

mary had a little dog
and everywhere that mary went,
faithful, tailwagging,
always trying to lick her hand or her cunt
and rubbing himself against her leg
high up the stockinged thigh,
that dog would also go

sometimes she would try to get rid of him
make him feel unwanted
let him know he should be finding himself some real doggy friends
turfing him out for indefinite periods

yet her eye followed his limping efforts
solicitously
and if he returned
tail between his legs
she would kiss him fiercely
take him in her bed
and let him sleep by her fire

after bathing

after bathing in your waters
drinking your startling thoughts
the purr that grows to pant
the kisses, the rumbling shout of delight
and the quick side-kicker
taking advantage
of the dark rainy night
and the body of woman
delight, shame-faced a little, boyish guilty looks
but pleased as punch all the same
the world is good !

sexual beings

she wanted to keep the lines open
she waited a little
said with a smile
i´m a woman of flesh and blood,
lust and desire

his mamma connection exploded in his heart
longing, jealousy, weakness, tears
but he also wanted
so he searched for a little joke
a signal, a green light
that indeed the lines are open

a long year

a long year, a lost year
i gave myself up to the lonely pleasures of poetry, song and other sublimations
i couldn´t resolve my problems
in life as she is lived
so i withdrew
and spent lonely nights
with piano, guitar, pens and pencils.
a lost year ?
i know more of myself
i know how seductive the dark road can seem
the image more attractive to me
than getting down to business
and getting my snout dirty
i worked up
a fractured bitterness
and thus i circumscribed the rub
and romanticised my problems
a rough year

matchbox

i put the reasons for my discontent in a matchbox
counted and ordered them
went walking
fingers in my trouser pockets clasping the box
a rough day
or a stupid boy ?

2009

this year spits out its last days
shortly we will arrive at london bridge
the porters throw open the doors
flurry, hustle and bustle
a voice crackles over the tannoy :
all change, this train terminates here
all change, all change please ! "

yes, that´s what i want
above all else.

clean and tidy

coarse cloth roughly cut
feet stuffed into shoes
mathematics drill
brushed and burnished
scrubbed with no feeling

more important that our boy is clean and tidy
than that he lives

i don´t give a wanker´s toss
i don´t care,
give a shit, i mean
fuck this

so i pay them back in their own coin
and i pay the price