Friday 1st August



Rose early from a late night lap top,
eyes marinaded in glass, tight as piano wires.
Disturbed by dreams of people I love alone in
the dark with a pack of salivating wolves.
Caught the eye of a builder coming home from
the city of dreams in a Wolves t-shirt as I
caught the Essex train, chewing on something
delicately seasoned. The shirt was blue, it
should have been rich yellow, memories of 1960s
Molineux, Man U v Wolves. Dougan, Best, Charlton.
The crowd surges, squeezing the breath out of a
boy my age who gets carried away by the St John’s
& misses the game. Two years later he walks into
my class at school, introduces me to Iggy, Ziggy,
Zeppelin, Fairies, Hawkwind & we’re friends to this
Back on the train, the builder looks at me with the s
ame eyes as the wolf on his chest. Are you stalking me
for a moonlit transformation?


2 thoughts on “Friday 1st August

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