The intermittent white line
Snakes
Like 4 years
Burnt black by the summer sun
Through towns of 20
And villages of 10
Under Martin’s pub
And Vera’s chip shop

Murky eyes and groaning organs
Preach nephalism
To youthful posts
Full still
With the diluted spirit
Of chemical indulgence

26 stone of 46 years
Finds a brilliant slumber
In the back seat
Amongst the dreck of fun
While some commercial cherub
Expounds love and the cityscape

Four new paths veer
From here
Taking only
Each other
And faint laughter
From furtive evenings
In red black basements

32, 22, 56
The measurements of three year
Correctly spent
Smelling unknown girls in morning beds
Scratching comment with sore heads
Looking older, but looking new
Stumbling on what we thought true
3 years I’m thankful
I spent with you.