SHOP TALK

Stores have stories in them
See her there, that top is for a man
Who leaves her every night for his wife
Who wears a similar top.

He’s going to meet her tomorrow
An ex who tore apart his heart
Why does he care how he looks?
The habits of love die slow deaths.

She bought a set of teacups
Mummy was coming for tea, mummy thought
A chipped teacup is a cracked marriage
Let mummy be surprised when the divorce comes.

She doesn’t buy anything, she can’t
But she likes to walk the aisles
And think of past salary slips
Each unattainable shoe kills her, a little.

His grey hair, black glasses and disapproving nose
Looks incongruous amidst airbrushed brands
He doesn’t understand the prices of this world
He holds on to his fifty tightly, it will buy him tea all month.

She’s the happy one who buys it all
And in the evening she’ll sit on her bed
Surrounded by bags who caress and whisper how perfect
Her life is, reflected on a wardrobe that hangs from her body.

The shop attendant is the quiet one
The one who stares at you looking through him
You won’t think of him until
His smoldering eyes hurt you inside.

When the stores close, they drift out
Each one clutching their lives close
What they don’t see are the price tags
Stitched on to every skin, changing with every act.

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ELASTIC BUT NOT PLASTIC

There are flowers strewn around
Headless rotting beauties
I pick one, smell its stale odour
So yesterday, with a mild smell of death.

He doesn’t come home anymore
I’m not surprised, theses days
I predict the end of an affair
Even before it has begun.

The sunlight dances with the dust
My eyes stare, stubborn no-more-tears
I make a Herculean effort to admire this pretty day
I can’t lose happiness, once again, ever again.

By sunset, my mood has improved
I have found my smile, my thoughts, me
A book, a random date, a restaurant
An old friend, a new tree, a compliment.

What strange trick has fate played on me
That the betrayal of my deepest passion
The crashing of my newest dream
Takes just a day, to get over?

The Crocodile Came For Breakfast

He pointed at his upside down tents
And claimed they need to chew
I tossed him a bread, he spat at it
And began to gnaw my daily neurosis.

He hiccupped twice and politely asked for water
I dropped down a pet theory
In two snaps, ‘t was gone
Leaving behind a mood swing.

His tail began to swish and I knew it was a sign
I quickly got down on my knees to pray
It didn’t help, not one bit
He had eaten God, the last time he came.

He gave a mock burp indicating he wasn’t full
I shrugged my shoulder and offered a question
He leered and said, he was full up on answers
Couldn’t I offer, anything more?

I cannot tell you what I finally gave him
But he snores content at my feet
Occasionally, he smiles at what he took
I sit still, it’s just, another thing gone.

gah

Every 4am flight drains me
Especially when I’m going back
The adventure I had begun
Has neatly folded itself
And now sits in a corner
Quiet spent, harmless memory.

These days, nostalgia can’t awaken
Excitement, the fatigue of waiting
For change is unbearable
And as day passes on to day
Nothing moves, not even me.

I know this ennui will dissolve
But so slowly, I mat not notice
And I’ll remain pickled in
Anticipation, while my heart follows
The countless clocks that beat
Continuously, aimless in the world.