3 POEMS FROM SIMONE

Lenny,(who sold me a ticket at 08.20hrs).

Lenny – Lenny Everett,

hearing was hard for you,

and working your computer,

well that was harder too.

You stumbled when you spoke to me;

your hands – I saw them shaking;

your fingers slow, flat, pudgy,

and me so close to waking.

You said sorry for your keyboard,

for your printer on go-slow,

as you passed me ticket and itinerary,

advice on best times, best routes to go.

And as you puffed and panted,

a public-serving heavy breather,

Lenny, you were a gentleman

and I was sad to leave yer.

And when I’d struggled onto my train,

and left your kiosk far behind,

I wished you days of clear-voiced punters

who’d give you no grief, would smile, be kind.

Ode to Mister Fox

Wow! Your fabled tail, your lustrous bustling bushy tail, it

struts the question – am I fabulous, am I fantastic??

Are you hell? Now I’m in thrall

to that pelt, the luscious sweep of your back, the swell of your

russet chest rising to that strong neck, those long yellow teeth,

those gold sleepy eyes, neat feet,

fleetfooted, hold on… I can’t wait! I’m in hock to the shock

of that dark musky scent, sexy and bosky, promising

plenty: I’m disarmed by your sangfroid,

your je ne sais quoi. One flickering look, one flare of white

and I’m snared somehow; hooked by that smell, that tail, those

tawny charms, I’ll be your flame, vixen, doxy…oh

foxyfoxy.

Reason (or I’ve lost my marbles)

Elgin – can this really come from Elgin?

Did he lose something…I thought he gained;

or did all that excess baggage

weigh him down with mental strain?

And if after suffering comes amnesia,

then experience brings familiar pain.

It’s a hamster wheel, a goldfish bowl; judgement,

common-sense, whatever – let’s just lose it all again.

And marbles, glassy marbles, where do they get their name,

with their so-cold candy spirals, their fixed swivel twists,

nothing like carrera or table-tops in pizza parlours,

and as for links to David, well these I must have missed.

And if forgiving you’s irrational,

then I really must have lost my mind,

and if you’d only return my raison d’etre,

surely my reason can’t be far behind?