Peacock Crossing
We have no photographic evidence of our time together, save that one picture of you looking stunned at the border. You always were so fussy about your papers.
Quest for Consideration
My quest for consideration began on a damp
bed. I knew from the smell of the room that it was
a Saturday. Sometimes you want a drink first. Other
times you find yourself crawling through it
all stone cold sober. You or I, it's all the same.
Did I ever mention The Rolling Stones in a poem?
Exile on Main Street is a lovely record. One of us is
Mick Jagger to the other's Marianne Faithfull. I mean,
it's possible Mick has had his heart really broken once or twice,
but you'd never know it from the way he moves his hips.
No comments:
Post a Comment