23 Aug 2012

No poets

I was asked if I could round up some poets for a reading
And I said I can’t remember the last time I
Went to a reading or
Spoke to another writer

This was/is by choice
But it suddenly dawned on me
It may cause me to be viewed as some
Sort of misanthrope

Which I am – but for reasons other than
Objecting to the company of other writers

For so long now
There have been no performances
No poets
No sitting alone drinking like some
Burgundy hearted movie star
Jack and Coke and a keyboard in the corner

There is zero drama
Everything is now clean
A new job
A grown up brain trying
Desperately to hold on to
The memories of why I started to do this

There are painkillers and toys in the bath and
Early nights
There is this underlying happiness
Unsettling and comforting all
At once
There is me and us
But not really them

Nothing is missing
But something
Something is suddenly needed
A drive under the influence
A razorblade flashing under a streetlight
Screaming women

A bottle thrown at your feet that
Makes you dance one more time.