A Day in the Life

Two bottles of vodka, empty, full, a pile of books, lighter, cigarettes, unmade bed, drawn curtains, unshaven silence, coughing, dull smoke, no pictures, no photos, dirty carpet, paper, five pens, a pencil, two year old clothes, a brown envelope, unopened, a pad, scribbled numbers, bent desk, four blue walls, heavy door, bare light bulb, strewn underwear, broken glass, coffee stain, two dirty plates, breadcrumbs, a poem, CDs.

Birds lift themselves, sinking, rising, the air blue, cold, cloud-strewn, the density of houses, silent city, mid-morning, no cars, people, nothing, but washing waving in the wind, backyard lines, spans of dark branches, early-budding, wedding spires, churches, bells inside, silent like an orchestra of empty violin cases.

My park, my old-time magic, duck pond, broken fountain, ornamental stream chuckling, stepping stones, cold kids' football, muddy knees, monuments, pride, grass, wet, green, snail tracks, dead leaves, smell of spring, the sun breaking the clouds in time for lunch.

Streets, shoppers, exaggerated signs, backlit bus stops, dry pavements, gum-mouthed teens, shopping bags, half-eaten burgers, the smell of cars, shoe shops, jeans in windows, mysterious flats four floors up, piss-stained corners, children, smiling, four pubs in a row, double yellow lines, shoving, Oxfam and KFC, dropped pennies, golf sales, a train station, phone box, hopeless alleyways, ancient cigarette butts, lampposts, women, doorways, huge shopping centre.

The death of evening, cold wind, coming home for tea, barren marketplace, squashed tomatoes, leaves, rumblings of rush hour, splendid sunset, barren, stark, birds flocking, purple, blue, pink, black, metallic city, smoke from a bonfire, sticky fingers, neon, warm interiors, gold, white, flashing blue, net curtains, TV, fairy lights, tired, rising hills, pubs filling, a dark door, cold lock, empty house, room, blue walls, vodka, curtains never opened.