Saturday 7th May



Summer comes early, everybody happy. Men wear bad shorts &
last year’s T’s, washed too many times. Show their bellies,
sock-less shoes, tattoos, afterthoughts, feeling cool.
A certain type of man turns shirt collars up, never got it
irritates. What tribe is that? Men stride up the middle of
roads closed for market, Kings in the sun. The summer dresses
of seasons long gone, memories of beach exotica, times of
silenced phones, no bills to pay or queues or drudge.
Handbag smiles as coy as when they were girls.

Listening to Stian Westerhus


2 thoughts on “Saturday 7th May

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