I Dream of Pine Trees

i dream of
pine trees
and sea salt

bruised knees
in the grass

i dream of
campfires
and

listening
to summer rain

i dream of
moonlight
and stardust

i still hear
my mother’s
favourite song
echoing
in dusty
corners
of my mind

i came here
to build a home
with you
i say
from the abandoned
bones of my ancestors
i say

and i know you will stay
because you are
not the kind of man
that runs away
from love
and i kiss you
with one hand on your chest
and the other on your cheek

you taste of pine trees
and sea salt
and i still hear
my mother’s favourite
song
echo
in my head

City Boys

in the city
men in suits
are in a hurry
to get heart failure
and lorazepam
while i stroll
with my hair down
and my eyes set
on the sky
not a penny
in my pocket
but the luxury
of time

suit up boys
smoke another
cigarette and
snort another line

the stench of success
surrounds you now

coins clang
like the beat
of a battle drum
as
i stroll past them
with my hair
in the wind
and my heart
on my sleeve

Mrs D

i carried your name
in my pocket
the day after
you died

i had peeled
it off your door
mrs d
room number fifteen
black letters
printed by a machine
on a transparant
background

heart matters
eighty nine
don’t leave me alone
you said

every
single
shift

i thank you
for your shine

Science doesn’t need you to believe in it.

a mouth mask
doesn’t hide the sound
of a voice breaking
when a heart stops beating

a pair of goggles doesn’t
mask the tears
that fall
in between
the breath
that stains
our view

i watch a man
shrink
to nothingness
within a matter
of days
bones sticking out
his face
like a skeleton
dressed in paper
breath ragged
like the sound
of an exhaust pipe
running on fumes

the tv runs silently
in the background
showing images
of covid test streets
being attacked
by people
who don’t believe
in science
as i hold the gloved hand
of the relative
that is going
to stay behind
because touch
is still touch
and the thin layer
of plastic
that separates
us
is still able
to pass
on warmth
and science
doesn’t need you
to believe in it

but a man still dies
fighting
an invisible
enemy

Small Town Dying

on monday
we are hungover from
that weekend
when we lived

on tuesday
we wash our car
because god forbid
the car next door
shines harder

on wednesday
we mow the lawn
and throw the apples
back over the hedge

on thursday we pay
our taxes and fuck our wives
because this needs to happen
once a month

on friday we eat fish
and i think jesus
had something to do
with that

on
saturday
we die