you wanna know what it is like to be me?
i know
i know
why would you wanna
its a presumptuous question
but sometimes,
i know i do,
sometimes wouldnt ya give everything
just to be someone else just for 10 minutes
just to get a break from the guy in here
youre so sick of
just check out somebody else view
whats it like thru other eyes for a change
you know what
you never really gonna find out
thats not the answer you were hoping for
maybe you wished somehow
on this blog by some olde singer
there could be a technique for mind transference
i wish i could say you were right
i wish i could say then imagine this
its exactly 5.27 am
its cold
youre sitting in your kitchen with a woolly hat
hunched over a laptop
typing this too who are you?
are you imagining hard enough?
i dont feel the tiny push of your intrusion
into my life at all
take a swig of pitta tea with m. honey
cold hands
one finger typist
hunched over
shoulders startin’ to complain
thats how ya did it last time hisses your left shouder
and im next joins in the right
gulp more tea
youve made two cups cos youre gonna need it
dawn is a lovely time
remember when the thought of dawn made you cower
the horrible sick dawn arriving?
poor dawn, knockin’ at yer door
steven she says in some germanic accent
open the dooor I am here!!
and you know you cant keep this lady out any longer
so you pull something on
race downstairs
peer thru the little hole
oh its dawn alright
one of your voices says
well she floods into the place
and there you are
all alone baybee
the radiators whirr and bubble
dawn goes up the stairs
out on the balcony
pull those curtains
but shes still standing out there
sleep closes its doors
you bang on sleeps doors
hoping to be readmitted
when a very angry man pops his head out
and says
dont let me see you before about 10 oclock tonite!
why do i have to wait
you/i wail
i mean it he says
now scram!

open the curtains
ok
dawn steps back in
somehow suddenly older
not radiant and golden
but grey and timid
and while you were trying to get into sleep
she stood there patiently withering
as though she just needed
a fix of aknowledgement by you
to keep her held
although today is sunday
a bad day to feel bad
more tea
cold empty beach day
car parks empty days
foggy quiet day
mr winter i dont like you anymore
mr winter youre makin’ me sadlook around the wallls
pictures of tori amos jostle buddhas n ganesha statues
masks stare down from walls with peeling white paint
everwhere bulging with mail, scissors, pens, bills, potplants
bowloffruit, vases with real n fake flowers
thermometer n ghetto blaster
a bamboo plant that needs a serious haircut
a few weary ants up early on their shift
to locate and transport
any food lying around
books, cds, a wooden parrot on a stick
are you here with me now
i dont know
is that you
or just mr winter
chilling me down to the bone
here its still dark actually
6 oclock nearly and still dark
both cups of tea gone
my typing hand n finger
are especially cold n distant
the shoulders start complaining again
its enough already they say
finish it now
and
blame it on us!