Posted in Love

Cats Away

What’s love got to do with it
that’s what the song said.
A boy’s weekend away –
young men
and boys will be boys
drinking
ball shooting
bullshitting
and chasing pussy.
A party left behind wanted to be filled in
details – all of them,
especially the last.

Clarkey and Dex
and Bone
and the narrator – how was it?
“Bro it was sennnnssssational
and Ray
ah no
he said ….. he said ….”
a pause
to offer the flag of excuse
to a runaway train of scorn,
“he said he …. be in love.”

“LOVE!
Love? What’s that got to do with it? ”
A lesson on immiscible
there’s pussy
and there’s love –
• separate 
• unrelated
• dissimilar 
• not even needing to be on on speaking terms.

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Author:

Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.