28 April 2012
He sat cracking his knuckles Over marmalade Ignoring burned toast Cold in the rack And fixed me with That all-seeing stare The one that knew When I'd been slack Or told a lie
You need to sleep more He pronounced Dead cert Pass me the juice I laughed Made obtuse remarks About the bastard child And loose women From last night Some wretched club
Will you come today? I might, what time? I work towards The storm outside He scoffs Looks hurt I brush aside Move on with Some other bind That holds distraction
Two hours in I wake the drink Place it beside Those black/white keys And wheeze away At tired lines Dallying, daydream Unable to find A song for all Half unfinished things
He comes in from the cold Slings his coat On a hallway peg Strides into The music room And beams They won I try to seem Awake or like We hold connection
But we've always been Too different Two bookends He rarely reads Only trains or Half-fic histories And I run spent To nowhere On strings and lines And trinkets
I wish I'd more time Same, spun story Spoken by man Laugh of the gods Chasing our tails Cradle to grave My temper quick And him; so mild I could be someone Else's child
J. x
Break Fast • Opuss № I