Search results:
“Things to do while someone is sleeping with someone else”
I woke up late not my habit it’s not important.
Ten o’clock i sat in the kitchen watched.
As two women put out a long handled broom on the roadside.
They left a note it said ‘please don’t park here.
We are moving into number thirteen and need the van.’
Broom was balanced on a table red tablecloth.
Blue tiles i thought is it colour film in my camera.
Or b/w my brother came shortly before midday.
Then she came up we all drank coffee talked.
And set off and circled the water looking at the tower blocks.
My brother deplored them he is a new marxist i admired.
Them i am an old marxist these are our prises-de-position.
She walked home and we went to the park.
In this poem she is in the third person.
In the park my brother and i walked past the woman he is dating.
He told me and i said ‘why didn’t you say hello’.
‘She didn’t recognise me’ he said and ten minutes later said.
‘I would have said hello if she had recognised me.’
We talked about the green ray we talked about.
When i got home the removal van was there and she was working.
I sat in the kitchen and watched the pots boil.
Men unloaded many boxes into the street.
I opened the windows wide the room filled with steam.
She told me ‘i don’t know what time he wants me i.
Don’t want to send two texts in a row.’
She showered and dressed she looked etcetera.
It was five she opened the door kissed me goodbye.
I cut an aubergine into half-inch slices.
I opened another beer i thought ‘i like beer’.
My friend came and i asked her to ice the cake.
We talked about the commodity in marx it was hard the men.
Were muscling the boxes into the nice house opposite.
'Going to stay over here if that's ok’ came the text.
We talked about nice houses and how to get them.
We ate and drank and then it was time for her to go home.
So i wrote a poem and the men packed up and left.
The street was quiet and the bottom of the windows.
Was foggy i will make a machine voice read this.