TWO POEMS – Paul Tristram

Posted: November 1, 2012 in Fiction, Poetry
Tags: , , , ,

Son Of A?

We were sat in a Tavern

deep into the early afternoon,

there was an old western movie

on the TV.

The film finished and Stevie

turned to me and said,

 

“You know, I don’t know if I’m

a son of a bitch, a son of a gun

or the son of a whore, anymore?”

 

I laughed into my pint,

this is why I liked drinking with Stevie.

 

“I’m serious man, I’m just lost,

straight up and all the way!”

 

I laughed into my pint again.

 

“Hey, I’m starting to get worried,

I’m serious, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I know Stevie, I’m being serious

too, welcome to the club my friend

and it’s your round!”

 

© Paul Tristram 2012

 

 

Thieves Will Be Prostituted

I had not seen him for a couple of years,

I had heard the rumours and they looked true.

He had lost a few stone in weight,

his face skin was gaunt and grey,

teeth missing or now just black stubs.

He was sitting on a fold-up chair

with a clipboard and pencil

wearing the florescent waistcoat

of a criminal serving his sentence

outside in the community.

He was a really talented guitarist once

but now he’s into sucking heroin’s cock again

and sat on a picnic chair outside of a public

toilet like a pervert.

 

He spotted me passing and scrounged a roll-up

 

“What’s up mate, how are you?”

 

“Hey, the Man got me ticking how many slag’s

go into the ‘Ladies’ and how many assholes

go into the ‘Gents’ I’ve gotta record it all down,

a little tick for each and every one!”

 

“Shit, why do they need to know that?

It’s a free service when you’re not in London,

they’re not checking on customers like!”

 

“I know but the Man’s got to find me something

to do for 3 hours a week, innit!”

 

I wished him luck and walked off,

it was nice to witness a messed-up scenario

that I wasn’t actually involved in, for once!

 

© Paul Tristram 2012

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