A Poem For Today | 1

Gallery

Obviously it's winter. You're in a duffel coat,

which hides your shape. I'm lighting your fag.

There's something touching about the way we stand,

our young bodies, you leaning toward me.

We're outside the Angel Café. I'm turned away

from the camera, a back, a raised arm, a hand

holding a lit match: but you can't tell it's me.

Someone says, black and white, you can't beat it.

Look at those paving stones. You can almost feel

that dusk. It's superb. Look at that lettering. I loiter

near 'Angel Lane Couple', hoping to be recognised.

But they're more interested in the dusk. The figures

make it, someone says. And I suppose we did.

❊

Links Love #6

// "You hit like a girl."

// I've been lusting after these cool things for a good few months now.

// If you read this post, you'll know my clichéd writer's love for gin, and this video got me excited!

// Leaving London and what it feels like.

// Pizza in the wild!

// This post made me want to fill my house with cacti.

❊

Train Shorts 1 | Unexpected Friends

There was something comforting about seeing a six year old portray no fear or prejudice towards the heavily tattooed man that sat less than a metre away from her. She didn’t flinch once. Not even when he ordered a beer, I suppose she’d missed the two already empty cans wedged between his feet.

It took a good half an hour for the girl’s ease with the new character to be adopted by her Mother - who was sat opposite, an eye on each trouble maker. She did eventually find a comfortable spot, slid down her reserved seat a little and even engrossed herself in a book, although I can’t be sure if that was to hide the disgrace she felt as her angelic child began to learn the not so angelic rules of poker.

❊