Thursday, October 4, 2012

October skies & Belgique.

Belgium's great. concert right outside our hotel? Mmm, okay. Obvs.

More moody poetry, mmmkaythanks. Like or hate it, let me know, yeah? Been in a bit of a poetry mood apparently.

I don't know how one would attempt
to describe it
other than broken-hearted wee
but I will try.
She was like that brilliant
plume of white
factory smoke
across October skies
a cloud
against clouds.
Watching her wee/eeep gave you
that same desperate
but in your belly
more than your throat innit?
Her twisty mouth like covering yourself
in fresh grass
in a field sumwhere
and staying there.
And kicked dogs are mentioned
quite often: "she looks
like [sic]."
But I am more
brought to mind
of the hopelessness
of the old people in that awful brick building
we just passed
or the surreal nastiness of the hanged dog
in that fancy-new-raw-whatsit
Heathcliff thing
er film
where it is ALWAYS
October skies.
So that's why I can't help.
you do understand.
of course of course of but of course you do.
Because a kicked puppy
I can clutch to my ample bosom
and give a bone and maybe a snuggle
but a hanged one I can only pity
and throw up
and bury.

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