more wink than worn

more wink than worn

it’s a good one –

all polished leather

and clasps, aglint

in the 8am sunrise.

few scuffs,

only creasing, light

at the corners;

more wink

than worn.

inside this briefcase,

this gift from a wife

who still believes in you –

quietly, with terse hope –

is a banana,

brown at the crown,

and a miniature whisky,

hidden

by a get-rich-quick book,

dog-eared and bookmarked

with your dreams;

stalled plans

pencilled into the margins.

you leave,

for another day of no-work.

a secret,

that leaves your knuckles,

snow white, tight

as you head out,

into each morning

you no longer believe in.