Wednesday 4 July 2018


Relationships survive,
some say,
on solid ground
where temperaments meet,
where values agree
and there’s balance
between order
and impulse.

they’re simply the
acceptance of a love unable to die.

Sure, we may hope to survive our time together
on the bases of matching traits,

or we can live out
the insanity of love,
come what may.

It’s not like we’ve a choice

The only thing


Your voices bounce softly off each other's insights

like music twirling on its own notes

as we lie on the sofas outside.

Our dog rests on a blind side
but we hear its breath
—automatic like the sun,
like a smile.

the dishes could need doing.
Somewhere in the city,
reports are being written
and interviews conducted.

Thousands of miles away
stocks are chased on Wall Street.

We’re falling asleep, though,
together in the sun
by the foothills on Bakers Road.

“Isn’t this the best thing ever, just doing sweet fuck all,”
you whisper.

But I can’t help think
we’re doing the only thing
to be done. 

Back in April

Back in April
I left for Nepal then made my way to Europe
for I felt this could serve me somehow,
perhaps as an education.

But in leaving home,
I left you, too,
and have waited to be sentenced for committing
this greatest of betrayals.

September’s coming
and Europe will soon prepare for the cold.
I’ll fly back home and into spring
where a new love is birthing for you
—one I’ll be foreigner to;
one I’ll be punished by;

one that will pain me
and test me
on just how much I’ve really learned.