Today

I feel so pointless and a little bit guilty.

Shouldn’t I be busy doing something?

Sunday was yesterday, was kind of ok,

would’ve been good had United not got beat,

at least there being a game on gave me

a good excuse to have a drink on my own.

Later on I played some GTA with Riley and Karl

and got a little stoned, but today? Today doesn’t

fit right at all. Give me something else

to distract myself with.

Something like

a trip out of town to somewhere new,

or even a few games of pool down the pub with the lads will do,

or going to the pictures with Suzanne, that’d be my first choice,

that’d be like living in a bubble of warm moonlight,

but I no longer speak to Suzanne,

and the lads are all in work,

and there’s nowhere new for me to get to.

So down the road I go,

where daisies in pavements bow their heads

as I’m served from the back of an Audi;

where the barber stands in the barbershop doorway,

cig in mouth, eyes on street, not looking, not watching,

just open and there; where the girls from the chippy

open up in a silence that lets on there’s something

out here they don’t like; where the man’s dog on the corner

barks as me as I go in the shop for my electric and gas.

In there I’m asked how I’m doing. “I’m doing fine”, I say.

I’m doing fine.