- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Town after Hours
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Town after hours, streets
almost empty - the odd car,
two people walking on
both sides accosting
each other across the width
of wet brick in mild
inebriation…stranded at
the sparkling shrine of a
jeweller’s, arms linked,
a hopeful couple stands
adoring. In the market square
the stalls have gone, to leave
a scattering of waste: a range
of empty boxes, cabbage leaves,
of sodden paper and of
polythene. A shaggy dog
comes sniffing, and on all
this dirt the dusk comes down.
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