by Brian McCloskey
I’m getting old and I feel alone and I want to feel less alone. Fish heads that look like famous people. And a dozy cuddle with the one you love. Very short skirts, white lace stockings and pantomime boots. A single glimpse of shining hair - the bright shock of a girl I’d never know. Walk around in the dark and feel the women. Flesh stretch lace girdle with suspenders. That was a comical parrot. I’d be love and sweetness if I had you. A sign that she is lifting her skirt, taking down her pants. Find somewhere to stick that in my herb section. And a topless lady I once found wrapped in my fish and chips. But you can’t illuminate a candle with a mouse. Anybody who really cares will abandon you. My pyjamas don’t cover the butterfly. Remember Earth clearly. That might work for wooden Americans. I don’t know if these mashed potatoes are really here. I think I’ll buy a calendar. I’m sure I’m going to love being married to Judy. Walk like a turtle, dance like a worm. There’s an old carpet lying outside the crematorium. You thought of an elephant in Denmark. And that’s where the monkey comes in handy. I’m going home to put a cross in the sprouts. Women with hairy armpits move into trees. Like a whelk walking into a cave. I’m in love with a girl who has just broken my heart. I guess my life isn’t worth two kisses. The fork is on the dinosaur. Heartbreak is more painful than any other pain I’ve known.