DECKCHAIRS

on striped sweet-wrapper deckchairs

checking out the sky

till we're dizzy

and the bushes are a surprise

talking some whatever-shit in the garden

see a mans hat-head bob over the backfence

from my kitchen porch

where i'm fetching teas

and the green hills beyond him swell like a muscle

i smoke camels from crete

on the deck chair/older than i am

loud voices behind foliage

muffled to murmur by warping wood and cool cracked concrete

everyones got windows open

showing white rooms

someones got a dog called timmy

barking from his backyard

and 

later

in deckchairs/sweet-striped/older than me

we’ll 

be 

checking

out 

the white stars/humbling sparkle dots

till the shadow trees and black hedgehog hedges 

startle us back home

talking 

some 

whatever-shit