I eat toast and marmite

drink a beer in a plastic mug

with ice that’s a lump

and my hair’s still damp

after splashing around in black shorts

and a white tee in Onion river by the

highway full of trucks and tourists

and all’s

cool with the afternoon breeze in the

ash maples ferns spruce and

poison ivy – yes I have a rash on my

ankles, welts and warts from

bushwhacking through all those damn

trees in august with a drop

in temperature but not between us

no that’s more charged by the

day and we try not to notice that

time’s ranging free

and it’s almost

the end of the month

when I have to leave

like that bloody cat

of mine

who wasn’t around

when I left to go camping

and I keep checking my phone

in case



and yes, that’s what it’s like

smitten with moments grabbed like flies on

butter on my burnt toast

making the most

like a hunger

belly aching


after a lifetime of

not knowing how laughing and lust

grow when you throw out the

torn socks of insecurity

step into fresh boxers or

out of cotton briefs

and say this is me

and she says, yes, I

see you, know you, and

yes, she says, yes, I’m smitten




with the gymnastics


gripping onto sheets

that need washing more often

but I ran out of

quarters and moved into a tent

and it’s too hard to reach you

from here but I check the bloody

phone again because maybe there’s a text

(number 532)

a photo

a time

or meeting

to be had but

the crunch of the crusts

in a dry mouth

makes me thirsty and the

temptation is to drink

at the Whammy Bar even if it’s

a bit of a drive across

the backroads and there’s probably

a short cut but I don’t know how to

reach you

so sitting back I let the dog lick

the crumbs off my pale thighs

and soak up the

last of the day’s sunshine worrying

because the cat is in town wondering

where we all are and I tell myself

it’s fine,  his food is on

the counter

the sheets smell of us

and then I notice the sound of commuting

cars fade out into a

sudden silence on the highway that

lasts a moment only while

the afternoon drags on

as the phone battery fades.


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