Red Hot Mama

I looked under the sink last night
And found to my surprise
A half full bottle of shampoo
Before my very eyes

A forlorn soap dish, tweezers, comb
Nail brush and pumice pack
A hundred ear buds in a stack
To welcome her back home

A bag of brisk white cotton swabs
Some crumpled billet doux
A ladies razor, toothbrush (new)
For her to come back to

Some sorbet coloured kiwi wash
For sensory delight,
A long black hair in a silver brush
A rolled up pair of tights

And then I found an ear ring
Zinc tablets, one full bottle
An empty sex-toy cardboard box
(he likes things at full throttle)

All her traces, all her tack
All her stuff bereft
She must have thought she would come back
That fateful day she left

Remind me when I go away
I must not leave a hint
No grain nor drop, no whiff nor stain,
No hair, nor piece of lint

No proof to show that I was here
So fleeting in his arms
So when he brings you to this bed
There’s no trace of my charms

The taste of sadness
Welling foaming bubbles of despair
Too many pints

The trace of bitter tears
Streaming down the glass
A thousand wasted nights
Too many pints

A thousand empty days,
Glimpsed through the wet fog
Of this endless moment
Too many pints

Who are they, those unwelcome guests
Sneaking past the censor
At the whiff of a party and too much rum
Or the hint of a spliff, then they come
Who are they, those crooks those vagabonds
Loitering with bad intent
In the secret palaces
Deep passages of my heart
Waiting by the portal gates
To sneak out and have fun

These undead, surly phantoms
Along for the ride until Bam
Centre stage they just erupt,
Racing along without their leads
In the stolen moments they’re free
I’ve never even met them
Only heard of their deeds by default
The list of their crimes is enormous
It’s a pity they seem to be me

Hideous to fall out of love
When I fall out with me
In the mirror then I see
This huge square greenish blob

Decaying orbs, sick oysters
Attempting to stare back
There’s no one underneath the mask
If I can hate myself this much
What happens
When I start
To hate
You.

Shopping List

Will I feel it when he kisses me
Will my heart beat twice then flutter and turn
And then beat twice again
Will I feel it?

Soap

Will I feel it when his lips leave a trail of angel dust upon my cheek
Sparking up dead cells, deranging hormones, melting dreams
Will I feel it?

Cabbage

Will I feel it as he kissed my throat pressed soft lips
against my pulse will he hear my frenzied heart,
And when those magic fingers stroke my breast
Will I feel it?

Potatoes

Will I feel it as he gently puts his hand upon my waist
And leaves it there
And looks into my eyes and knows
Will I feel it?

Berries

Will I feel it when he comes behind
His hot hand upon my back
Rumbles gently in my ear
Will I feel it?
Apples

Will I feel in the hairs
Of my neck and my ears swell reddening
When those hairs prick up will I
Will I feel it?
Peaches

Will I feel it if he then places both his arms around my breasts
Gently clasps my pliant body gainst his chest,
his rugged manly self
Will I feel it?
Plums

When I touch him and hear his breathing quicken
will I feel it
And see his face flush and his eyes drown with desire
Will I feel it?
Grapes

Will I feel it as he pressed a long strong thigh against my dimpled hips
And rubbed against a secret place
Long lost abandoned dispossessed
Will I feel it?
Wine

Will I feel it, will I feel it as I swoon in his embrace
Tender skin scraped raw with tough rough
Riding screaming had enough at last
Will I feel it?

Condoms

Lead me to my memory lane
Edged in pretty flowers
Chocolate box desires
Heady scents of love
to make you swoon
All drenched in beauty
lured to spires of gaudy blooms
Behind their lurid fumes
the fetid stink of biers

I stumble in the fumble of their undergrowth
Pain flowers sweet
A barbed white rose

White climber tumbled in your heart
quick thorns to pierce and strangle your desire

Seeking pearls of wisdom midst the thorny tangles
Bony spikes of hurt
The present loses savor
And tainted dirt of yesterdreams
clings dusty to my tongue
The florid sun dries up the longing for some fun
Down memory lane

Blind Date

please don’t touch me
I’ll explode your
fingertip will spark
a sudden flash
that leaves a smoking heap of ash
the smouldering ruins of me

leave me to
the savage beauty of my madness, my despair
please don’t touch me there
fissures yawning wider
just underneath my hair
revealing cold debris of days
of rough nights on the couch
please don’t touch

else I’ll be frantic for the light
my resurrection
in the small bleak hours to scrub
away the stink of
You
don’t
touch