Tenner An Hour

‘Tisn’t bad, for a tenner an hour, to take the 87, for a morning run, for a couple of hours and a couple of passengers, for a break from routine, a drive to the town. The money’s not bad, if you’re on the way out From a life on the go … a pilot’s careerContinue reading “Tenner An Hour”

Bus Youths

Flaps – dark eye-shutters, open at right angles to head-windows – clear, translucent, sparkling ports of access to a mass of perfectly-tuned, white-grey matter. Still young, still sprightly, and polished, ready to take on another day, to make synaptic deliveries, to utter profundities to similarly fresh-minded acquaintances about: the nocturnal habits of toilet rolls, enlistedContinue reading “Bus Youths”

Not Now

Two and a half hours, I’ve had to wait. Two and a half hours, I’ve been standing waiting here at this bus stop stuck desperate. See this hand here, my hand. See the hole here, in the middle. A knife hole. Last night. Last night I stopped a fight. Grabbed the knife. See, the hole,Continue reading “Not Now”

High Street Millionaire

Wrap me in; keep the gap closed. This is my space, on the pavement, in the High Street, by the window. My space. Pirate flag. Plastic cutlass. Open book. Marking my page, and my space … next to and part of McDonald’s. A multi-millionaire. A McDonald’s man, with a little bit of pavement – toContinue reading “High Street Millionaire”