There’s always someone
Hammering somewhere
Nailing wood
Hanging frames
Or just making a noise
But I’ve never met anyone
Who hammers for a living
Not even
Trini Lopez
Yet it never stops
More tomorrow...
There’s always someone
Hammering somewhere
Nailing wood
Hanging frames
Or just making a noise
But I’ve never met anyone
Who hammers for a living
Not even
Trini Lopez
Yet it never stops
More tomorrow...
More tomorrow...
Thick lines of stereo flashing fake lights dance before me.
My head feels like it’s someone else’s,
The pain cuts but the thoughts are muffled.
The airholes block and contract and send me into sleepiness.
Weariness rules from a distant throne of smothered senses.
The liquid drips and starts and presents itself, much stronger, after each laboured breath.
Medicate, eliminate, dry up the symptoms and rest.
More tomorrow...
There is a street
that’s never silent.
Doorbells chime
and cats meow.
Postmen whistle,
lorries rumble,
TVs clamour.
The only time
You can’t hear its nonsense
is when you shut the window
and go to sleep.
More tomorrow...
We stand around in our trunks
Uncomfortable at baring our bodies
Bellys hanging over
Fat arses squeezing into lycra
Nervously we start to chat
About the times when we all swam like dolphins
Please don’t make us prove it
Eventually we get cold
Milling about by the glaring poolside
Goosebumps start appearing
Our scrotums the size of walnuts
Splash! He dives. Big torpedo.
Down the steps gently for some of the others
Front crawl, breast stroke, back stroke
All different yet we’re all swimming
More tomorrow...