Thursday, 2 April 2015

Spectator


Your significant other leaves
Saying they’ll see you later
And you wait, and you want
Gauge to cry, and you don’t
Complain life is unfair
Don’t expect me to be there
I’m just a spectator


He checks his watch at half past eight
Scans the street, then lays his bait
In the sensuality of his breath
His want to break evades itself
The flair of young man singular
Don’t expect me to be there
I’m just a spectator.


Later rituals
Are seething kin, the citadel
Already she has cleaned her teeth
Of the others he inclined to meet
And memories of those embrace her
Don’t expect me to be there
I’m just a spectator


Don’t expect me to love or hate you
I’m the photographic untruth
The time taken
Notoriety
The unnecessary fight you lead.

Clubs and societies
Formed so I can see you later
Paper then as I embrace you
Don’t expect me to be there

I’m just a spectator