In England, Thinking of Women (Three Months Later)

I saw a tree outside my window as I smoked a late night cigarette, thinking about that girl, which seemed more vivid and clear than its surroundings. Although not much larger than a sapling and in a clear, open area it stood still and proud under an orange lamplight. Seeing that tree alone and proud I was not sure whether to feel happy, sad or empty. Maybe it was just a fucking tree.

Anticipatory Science Forecasts

I am trying to tell the future (Hand me my glasses)
There are trends in sex trafficking. There are things to be seen.
But I have not seen them?

There are trends, in earthquakes.
Their position, their timing. I’m sure if you give me enough time I can predict the next one. If I guess the Richter level, perhaps they will give me a prize.

If I guess the story of a hero, who drags the screaming children from the rubble, perhaps they will give me a Pulitzer. Maybe I will give hope. I can do it, but not without my glasses. This is where you come in.

Hand me my glasses and I will mention you in my acceptance speech.

“I sure am glad that my predictions saved so many lives. Those children are alive now. And that is not a problem as I solved over-population too. That was a simple one. Stop fucking.” Careless fucks cost lives.

I will be given honorary degrees from every major University in the Western Hemisphere. They will create new programmes of study around my theories. The art of Prophecy will be as respected as Literature or Law. Schools will have my picture on the walls. I will be the Chairman Mao of saving everyone from everything.

My wife will be beautiful and she will support me. She will accurately identify when to be humble and stay away from the press. She will not over-react to my infidelities, as I will have warned her well in advance. Our marriage counselling will begin on our first date. We will have already named our children before we meet; Pablo and Consuela. They will have to attend public school, of course, just like the other children.

They will ask me for the answers to upcoming tests. I will laugh and ruffle their hair. I will send them to the school bus with an extra large hug on certain days, as I know what is in store. It will be difficult for everyone – but there will be good times.

I can already remember the time when we will visit Lake Tahoe – the sun will shine through the trees and scatter around our feet as the endless passages of time embrace my arms and legs and pin me to the dust.

Groceries

In the cafe on the main street downtown I can see my ex-husband. He is sitting at the window, with his head down, picking at his food. I recognise him straight away and am suddenly very aware I will be walking into his eye-line if he lifts his head. I ghost between two parked cars and park myself on a bench, just out of sight, beside a tree.

His top section is visible through the window along with his feet, resting on a ledge. I can make out his expression to some extent, but I cannot, for the life of me, place it. He scrapes something off his burger before taking a bite. I watch him as he chews for a moment before looking out of the window, gazing into the distance. I imagine myself there beside him, several years ago. His frame is thinner and his hair is thicker, but his eyes glow the way only I have seen. I could walk into the cafe and act surprised, I could tell him how great he looks, perhaps we will embrace awkwardly. Maybe we will have a coffee, maybe we will laugh about the time we spent in Rome, and how the cheap champagne made him sick; how he sang me a song about maidens and castles as he lay slumped across our cheap, unmade hotel bed. Then can imagine how the conversation will progress. I will accidentally bring up Marianne, perhaps I subconsciously want to, and things will turn sour. He will raise his voice a little and say ‘I thought we were over this’ and he will look away, resignation in his eyes. I will catch them in the mirror and something inside me would shatter beyond repair.

Suddenly I am standing, turning away from the cafe. My feet are guiding me away from the hostile situation. Maybe one day, but not today. I can pick up the eggs from the grocery store on the end of the street instead, it is a little more expensive there, but that hardly matters. And the bread? Well, that can surely wait until tomorrow.

That Which Lies Before Me

Jellyfish

As we looked out over the beach she said ‘I wish that we were
in the sky’

I said ‘like moons? Just you and I?
She said ‘Well, she could be there too, you know I’m not the
jealous type’

I said

Well

If I were the moon
And you were the moon
And she was the moon
Then there would be too many moons

Besides,

The sea would go all weird and a...ll the fish would die

She said ‘I don’t think I want to see you anymore’

It was understandable – I wouldn’t want all those deaths on
my conscience

And just think of the jellyfish

Poor spineless bastards, things are hard enough for
them as it is.

Wolf

We had been separated for two years. It was around two, perhaps eighteen months. Either way I was in her apartment, sitting in the middle of the floor. She laid across the sofa, draped in colourful sheets. I had removed my socks as they had started to come off with my boots and I had wanted my actions to seem purposeful from the offset. I hoped she would see this as an interesting quirk, perhaps something that signified change, but even I knew it was pathetic. She looked at me with a mixture of intent and pity. I stared at the floor. The silence was excruciating. My mind was racing but words were not forming.

“I saw a wolf” I paused for a moment, unsure if this was the path to follow. “I saw a wolf, when I was walking home the other night. He looked like a wolf. He was white and grey and proud. He looked at me, he looked at me straight on and he mimicked my movements.”

I looked up. She was looking at me. I could see that she had no ring on her finger, It was poking out slightly from under the covers. I could see a t-shirt strewn over the end of the sofa. It was too large to be hers.

“I mean, I think I saw it. I’m almost certain.”

She stood up and smiled and walked towards the kitchen. Through the door I could see half of her putting a kettle onto the hob. After a moment she hovered in the doorway.

“This wolf, as I walked towards him, he mimicked my movements. He looked more purposeful though, he looked like he could strike, but you know, obviously I couldn’t tell what he was thinking”

“Obviously”

I tried to seek playfulness in her voice but it seemed harsher than I remembered.

“I walked towards it, it was in a garden, underneath one of the old boarding houses, next to the pub in the dale. I wanted to see how it would pan out, you know, if I walked towards it, I mean, I couldn’t avoid it, it was on my way home.”

She walked back into the kitchen and took the pot off the boil. She poured out two cups and presented one to me. I sipped it. It was black with a shot of cream. I sipped it and rested back onto my elbows.

She looked at me as I sipped the coffee. I did not say anything else. I began to think about the snow outside. I could hear it crashing against the window. My boots were beside me, the snow had melted from them slightly and there was a small pool of water around the soles. I had bought the boots in the Summer, to prepare for the cold winter. I felt a certain satisfaction in this.

“Go on”

I spun back towards her

“The wolf. Go on.”

“Okay, the wolf, yes, I mean, I was almost at the point where we had to meet. But it was cold, my hands were frozen. I put my head down and walked as fast as I could. Faster than I should. The lights were orange and the road was empty, I tried to look back when I was a few paces forward but I couldn’t see the garden. It had big hedges each side, I could see the edge of the driveway but that was it. I try to think back now, you know, to the garden. If there were some paw-prints in the snow or something, but for the life of me I can’t remember.”

She sat beside me on the floor, dragging the cover down from the sofa. She gave me a corner to cover my feet. I wrapped it around them, pulling them together for warmth. I felt more comfortable now and I laid down on my back.

“The next day, all I could think about was that wolf. I would be going through the day and carrying on conversations but the whole time I was thinking of that wolf. We even joked about it, you know, maybe it was my spirit wolf and all that”

She laughed a little and lent back against the edge of the sofa.

“But then I thought, that day and thinking about the wolf. It’s the most I’ve thought about anything in as long as I dare to remember.”

She looked at me now. A different look.

“What did you come here for?”

I thought.

“I wouldn’t want to say. Just in case I was wrong.”

I walked home and it was light. There were birds singing. The birds carried on singing, but they knew, just as well as I did, that the wolf would be at my door when I returned.

White Christmas

I saw a white Christmas this year
For the first time since my birth

On Christmas day we sat, and we were pleasant
My father reminded us as it was a day of Christ

He has read the greats and travelled India
I would like to discuss the old Russians

But they are meaningless to him now
He has God

I would like to discuss the great Russians
But it would not do either of us any good.

At Christmas he was unhappy, but he is happy now.
He would like to discuss God but I am not of the age or mindset to accept this

It was a white Christmas
And I am an adult now, for what it is worth.