Thursday’s

We’re fizzing, dizzy with it
clinking glasses
chasing tequila like its some
wild, ferocious beast

And there’s us – just kidding
There’s us and thousand more bodies
bodies all sweating
drunk on the chase of frets and
foreign animals

We’re Serengeti Sailors – what?

Mexican Fire Eaters

that’s better

laughter and streamers explode
from the eyes at the table
and the warmth is real, save the last dance

My two left feet

The Fizz Of Us

The moon wears a halo; an

angel winks through light

that smiles on

through the darkness.

This night of ours

is lit by dreams

and cobbled streets make music

seem inevitable

as we walk

like Merry Men, through a forest.

But trees are sparse – like sadness,

tonight; tears and fears

and anger –

all pulped into paper; leaving us

pages upon pages of space

to draw giggles in wine

and lipstick.

Pour out laughter and I

will drink it down, happily – because

there is nothing but

the fun fizz of us

in my stomach.

The Merry Go Round.

I ride a horse

with crimson feathers

and you kneel in the

carriage

patiently watching

me ride

all Godiver and no

stockings.

Shocking that you

should see a dismount

at such a speed

as we are at,

merrily going

round

carouseling

to the sound

of an organ

that plays us.

Again and again.