Archive: I

                                    I

What Love Isn't Lost In The Corner Of A Chipshop
But All And None
As A Lebanese Leonard Cohen Hands Me A Bag
Of Greasy-ness
While Behind Me, The Eyes In The Seats Are On
The Asses In Line
Outside, There Is Still Lads Throwing About Chips
While It's Ending
Until I Swoon A Former From My First Or Maybe
My Second Year
Quoting Torn School Shirt Pockets, And Drawing
Her A Parallel

Then I Threw Her Like A Suitcase Bouncing On
My Un-sheeted Bed
No Fucking Because The Moment Passed Away
On To A Different Man,
This, After I Regretted Telling The Girl I Loved Her
And Re-regretting
Not Telling Her The Same In The Morning, It Was
Not Meant To End
This Way Or In Any Other In Fact Or In The Fiction
I'll Later Make Up
For Myself While I Wonder What Happened To
The First Names

That I Use To Call Friends

CK