Friday 13 January 2012

JIMMY

Jimmy loves lovely love
(or a still picture of It;
a softed Hollywood vision of It;
an innocent juvenile dream of It)
and Jimmy
hates horrid hate
(or he knows he should
and hopes he does
but he don’t know It;
Jimmy's been too numb)
but
lovely love loves to horribly hate Jimmy
and
Jimmy knows he does hate that.

but sometimes,
in the Black Sea
low in a pillow when night ticks under a clock of claws
Jimmy . . . 
(if he is awake and
if he is thinking
and if White Noise
receded like moon tide)
. . . then
he can start to hate lovely love
(or his child’s idea of It;
his weak-handed dream of It)
and
he can start to love horrible hate
(or he hopes he does;
he don’t know It)
and he hangs on both ways for the morning grey light
and
goes out 
(goes on) 
insignificant in boots holding empty bags
treading 
in 
the oily puddles.





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