Sunday 17th March

LOVE THAT JET-LAG BOY:

Waking the past two nights on the hour all night.

Raggedy with a noisy head. My old familiar, that voice

in an isolated head, a long way from home says,

“Come down with me”.

Vibrating skin, stinging body, eyeballs blurry,

easy to get tetchy, a long way from home. It would be

a fine excuse for a flip out, impatience fed on exhaustion,

justified & grandios, but look….here’s the sun. sitting

silently glowing goodfood for a tatty soul. Walk in the air,

birdsong melodies, take a picture, do something good, tidy

your room, re-pack your suitcase, practise for that Brighton

Show yu got next week, you’ve been up all night thinking.

The oxygen is rare today, there’s a hole where the battery

used to be, a memory of a moody boy, jet-lagged uninvited.

Pass me a broom to sweep him out the door.

I need sugar, yeah, a little water sugar, dark brown

like black & sticky in a red can. Hold it up to the blue

sky & take it’s picture, you never had it so good.

(K)

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