Closing Time

Old Year’s Day draws to its close Raucous room pressed full in warm-faced embrace Separate and alone propped against beer-soaked oak He is found lost in the crowd’s refrains Resonating in silence his disconnected pain. Jovial masquerade acts on in stupor Group-laugh passes by on curve of crescendo then wanes and fades into the future. …

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Nights Comfort Lost

They live on the corner, Both lost, but together known, Between the council house and the carpet shop They make-shift a kerbside home.   She, drug-thin, snow-flake skin Barely hiding the little left within Yesterday’s jeans slip slight from her hips Yet undeterred and unrefined, she effs and blinds.   He, blind-drunk, weaves and creaks  …

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