Tuesday, 2 October 2018

Another morning


This morning I woke up thinking of sex
I didn't touch myself lest I be sad
as when I fantasize about an ex
I always end up dribbling an aubade

The half-hearted morn attempt in the shower
got thwarted by my sagging embonpoint
I try to lose but more come each winter
to the point I no longer see the point

Lunch had me push the chair back for some space
I felt tired of eating while eating
nap on the armchair, telly face-to-face
threaded clumps where my elbows were sitting

– mug of tea and biscuit plate tummy-topped
outside a prison, evasion daydream –
The only prospects of glee I have left
life to be seen solely at the seam

At midnight I dozed off thinking of sex
I didn't touch myself as I was sad
as I knew there would be nobody next
I'll never have the proper serenade.
 

This is no longer home

On the train back to the old place unsure if any memory is left there Surely there must be an old cigarette burn hissing embers fusing ...