Lines on waking

The lines stayed fresh and sharp.
The heavy hand on the counter,
black and white tiles
and the thrown jar
refused to fade
and they coloured my image of you.


In a short step,
we were on the bridge
with it silver paint, rough
over chips and rust.
The tar on the walkway melted in the sun
And an uncharitable stream of the drying river
Carried your memory into my conscience.

Woodchip wallpaper and other delights

A thumbnail
gains a hold in the woodchip.
Pause for a minute and consider
how once you'd have yielded
and dug the nail in.


Consider :-
digging mortar from walls,
amateur archeology,
selected deeds with a penknife.


Consider :-
sitting on the floor,
toes ruffling in the carpet,
as a thumbnail searches the wallpaper.

Soupe de poissons

I heard them talk,
In the salons,
In the salons,
Of Paris.
Haute cuisine and,
Vintage champagne,
Vintage champagne,
But for me.
Mais donnez moi,
Soupe de poissons,
Soupe de poissons,
From the sea,
Oh, Je t'aime le,
Soupe de poissons,
Soupe de poissons,
Just for me.


Once on a boat,
On the ocean,
On the ocean,
Rocking free,
There I felt that,
Rolling Motion,
Rolling Motion,
Ill, made me.


Till J'ai bu le,
Soupe de poissons,
Soupe de poissons,
From the sea,
Oh, Je t'aime le,
Soupe de poissons,
Soupe de poissons,
Just for me.


Offer to me,
From all China,
From all China,
All the tea,
I'll reject it,
Blowing frambois,
Blowing frambois,
Just give me.


S'il vous plait, Just,
Soupe de poissons,
Soupe de poissons,
From the sea,
Oh, Je t'aime le,
Soupe de poissons,
Soupe de poissons,
Just for me.