Sulking in old boots and smoking dry tobacco into ringlets of fug there is a beautiful untouchable riding my memory like slow waves. Free to ramble through all my day-to-day wonderings this wisp of a witch leaves hints of her passing arse and brushing breast but refuses to shed light on any corner or artifice?! She chooses instead to skulk around corners and tease from the dark hollows of her once incandescent beauty. I am weak and willing and glad of her smokey company. This mirage of memory kindles warmth in my cold dark thoughts. She is far removed from reality by time in my head and far more intimate with me now, even thru her clouds and footprints… evaporating each time I try to get close.
I see you, poking your crisp nose
round October’s back.
Pushing away at her
just so you can drag us screaming
through your frolics and fireworks –
So soon burnt and forgotten!
Well, how chill will you feel this time
Racing maniacally towards us
like you have anything to say.
Only last week I seemed to be swimming
in Augusts hazes and late nights
when suddenly –
November is eating into poor October;
beckoning the willing and the wary
to embrace the winter bullies.
I see you coming this time though.
Oh yes, sneak all you like you fireball of lies.
This year I’m ready and sick or not,
you’ll not put me down this time.
Ah November, just watch you don’t get too lost
in Decembers big promises –
remember amongst all the lies you’ll devise
that as quick as August was
so are you…
After the drag of October
you can but gallop by
all cinders and chills.