Friday 17 February 2017

Poetry Friday Number 33

Poetry Friday 33.
The juggernaut rumbles on. Three poems this week, all a little odd but meaningful in their own way. As ever with my poems, they are works in progress so any comments or suggestions are welcome.
For audio clickhere.

Cup Game
Drawn against the minnows;
risky for a mid-table team.
You want the glory, but
better a loss than a draw.
Get it over and done;
wham bam, no extra time,
no replays,
no being dragged back to their place
on a cold wet Wednesday in January.
A one-off encounter
that ends with the final whistle.

Restaurant Alone
Secondhand cigarette smoke
and memories for company.
A couple copulate with their eyes
waiting for the bill,
so they can disappear and
consummate
that that has already been
consummated.
Others bicker or stare at their screens
waiting for text relief
as Valentine’s Day accentuates
the negatives.
Musak drowns my thoughts,
whiskey drowns my doubts,
but my sorrows remain stubbornly
buoyant.

Headache
Closer she moves
so our clothes touch.
Her smell invades me
persuades me
to reach out
with my little finger and
touch her hand.
She slaps me
so hard that
I fall back and
crack my head
on the wall.
But my headache
is not caused by the impact
but by the sexual
harassment allegations.

Hope you enjoyed 33, some strange old poems there I think, 

Tune in next week for poetry Friday 34. Have a good weekend.

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