Between mouthfuls of alcohol and the din
And strain of neon she appears; her face,
As wide and petulant as a cat’s,
Studies me shyly. I am all evasion,
Robed in irony and forceful chit-chat,
Stuck in a version of myself.
Rushes through the illusion the texture of her skin,
The flat unresponsive lips, the elusive
Tongue, the smell of her vagina.
The self-conscious bowl of rice
In the morning. Exhaustion
Comes quickly: soul and penis shrink to nothing,
The dummy clatters on, burdened with so much
Impotence, so much solitude.
What does she want? Our senses jar.
I note her resolve with quiet horror
And lead her from the bar.
Copyright © David Colledge 2014
I’m a chef from the Scottish Borders who lives, writes and cooks in Glasgow. I studied Literature and Political Philosophy at Glasgow University and spent a brief period as a foreign language teacher in Korea. I’ve never had anything published before.