something for the weekend

just getting out of this city for one night felt like a holiday
there were no palm trees or sandy beaches
and there was always a cloud in the sky

but in the evening I could see the stars
no bright lights, no drama, the canopy a masterpiece
and no cacophony save the choir of crickets content

we found a tree fallen across the most perfect stream
only yards from suburban houses
and a bustling suburban town

if they keep putting up tower blocks
we will have nowhere to escape to
that's kind of worth thinking about, right?

this used to be Paternoster Square

one by one the banks and offices were sucked into the ground
as the cats got fatter and fatter
their expanding waistlines filled every available space
until finally the age old foundations
of many listed buildings
collapsed from the strain

the world didn't stop
except to watch the now unemployed white collar workers
desperately scrabbling at the dirt like chickens
searching for gold on a dried up seam

at first they blamed terrorism
unusual weather for this time of year
even day time television

but when they dug out the survivors
they found that banknotes had been used for bricks
and crude oil for mortar

the world didn't stop
because everybody had known all along

living the dream

the key never fits first time
or second
or third
or...

they find me asleep against the front door in broad daylight
growling at late morning dog walkers
better than the bathroom floor they say
better than the hallway

through wine and cigarette smoke
lounging on italian leather in marks and spencer slippers
getting fucked in the conservatory
talking the wheels off another day in the office
I sit
and listen
I mostly watch the rain on the window
and scramble my brain as I try to piece together the weekend

living the dream

but it won't last forever
they took all the fun out of it
bottled it
and they sell it in recycled plastic bags
somewhere in rural hampshire