A rain splatter of dawn
and ants stubble into the
street at closing time.
Slim Johnny heads home
to an empty house
at closing time.
His woman is the ghost
of a memory
at closing time.
Johnny remembers
to how it was
before closing time.
He was happy
and in love
before closing time.
She left like she said she would
for loving the the bottle more than he should
before closing time.
Johnny sheds a tear
for now is the time he fears
after closing time.
He sleeps in a bed
vaster than the sea
without his honey after closing time.
Leaving both bed and house
He'll see if he's man or mouse
after closing time.
She doesn't answer the door
to this sodden drunken bore
after closing time.
Johnny goes to the railyard
One last slug before the coldest hug
And closing time.
YOU ARE READING
Launching Your Diary Into Space
PoetryA collection from my old notebooks from my teenage years. A look into the 'birth of Benway'. Featuring angsty love-lorn poems aimed at no one in particular to Dada experiments. A lot of it is old rubbish but someone might read it.
