SO... three years i have been somewhat proud of this. Five minutes exactly, scribbled out....one day it just came.. But three years since not a moment spare to maybe rewrite - maybe adjust. To me that is the true poetry in it. Art...
Christamas eve 3 1/2 years ago i had a rare coffee with a woman met at the supermarket that morning. She spoke at some length of her life needing to just slow down and be back on track a little. Otherwise i enjoyed her. She left off our meeting - a sort of date at 11am a little flirty, no harm in that stating "habits,,,its my habits i need maybe to work on keeping the good ones going.."
fair dinkum nothing to do with me.
A little further text flirting or just banter proved a waste of time except eventually a 'story' came out about what some would call a dysfunctional obsession for a man. I was in such a good mood though i liked her to offer full on support and even help bagging him!
But she did make me think... especially that she had two fatherless children in tow. And i like them. And all was a bit topsy turvey for her.
But that's just, well, personal. And nothing came of anything. Except i meant it: I could...
And then later that year i cycled to see his grave.
And i remembered all i ever needed to remember, and that which the endless chipping away can make you forget: who you are.
"so Dear Extinction Rebellion wealthy middle class lady at your stall.... tell me that motion in the council on climate emergency you state you forved through... is it binding ior a non binding i havent had time to check..? "
"oh you are microagressing me..[you bad person guaranteed to wish me harm so go away] ..we don't think like that..."
no point even saying "well i bet the coppers who will enjoy arresting you next time will wish to know what the legal status is...and the fishes cannot know so its your job surely to know especially if you are taking public money here in a public marketplace..."
wow speedy or what !!!!
This post - last for some while - needs editing and bits adding in
So, it wasn't 'inspired' by her - Bag Lady ..or Silver..
But it was as the year went by intended if the moment cameby - i spoke of it a few times as we occasionally met in the street. Though of course even a 45 year old suposedly literate in UK would no longer know what "fait accompli" means - perfect mental health.. If i give you this poem, i cannot change my mind - it is committment even if i really dont think that much of you...
never mind fast forward two years to that summer - oh glorious summer of off their high horses...
except she's even higher up hers...
due the habit she didnt stop ...that she hid so well even from me and i thought i could smell a rotting liver at 100 paces....never mind that strong smokable stuff they all destroy their minds with even here...she needed to cease for the sake of her supposedly beloved kids...
hence "Lucky Escape" - no not the movie but it could be..
And she gets paid to be a 'carer' too... a proper one...
Modern UK...
but she can never ever again be even thought of never mind mentioned never mind vaguely traceable or known about...as she is just an innocent lamb... fathered badly too....cycles...oh yes that was fake too "course ill come cycle the lanes with you..." cycles of bullshit... no real love. And thuis it all is endless cycles.
And time wasted....but no more as she never sought any real public approval or even 'love' and her self regard was ...well seethrough...its the other lot the real culprits.... the ones who state you are the problem not their sadly child inside soul...
Now all that matters is i have only ever known one truly beautiful adult person - but why was his grave - ten years late i admit but then not exacvtly my fault frig the battles waged just because you win famous court cases!! ...- why did no one love him enough to tend his......tree label ...in the natural graveyard ...
