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2 poems by Simon Alderwick

Barefoot & Blacked Out


my love graceful

falling thru

the sunset of

my living room


her heartbeat

her bodyswing

i hold her say

remember me


her sweat is blurred

against my skin

she smiles a walk

of memories


i’m laughing cos

she’s laughing as

the walls fade to

an ambersand



Bukowski in the rain


i read a collection

of Bukowski poems

outside in

the rain

last night.


it started off

spitting but

soon became

a downpour.


in his poem about

an orchestra:

playing

in a deluge:

everyone abandons

the concert

to escape

the storm.


except for one man,

who stays because

he wants to hear

the music.


as i read

the pages became wet and torn.

the ink ran off the page,

over the grass

and down the gutter

until there were no pages,

no words,

just the outside cover,

Bukowski smiling,

and me, drenched

to the bone.


having slept off a fever,

i woke up to a sunny day

and it seemed the words of Bukowski

had gotten into the

water system:


every man was fighting,

cursing,

drinking,

every woman

showing a little more

leg than usual,


not a soul

in the neighbourhood

got out of bed

before noon,


and the

bluebird

in my

heart wasn’t

weeping.


________________

Simon Alderwick's debut pamphlet, ways to say we're not alone, is out with Broken Sleep Books in February 2024. 

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