Baggage

 you write me poems full of regret,
might’ve beens and could’ve beens,
we meet in the lover’s bar
at the dark end of the street,
you in your Zorro disguise,
me in a Venetian mask
inlaid with gold, sparks arc
when our fingertips touch
across the tabletop

yet, through the eye-slits
I glimpse them sat around you
the grandfather who abused you
the lover who betrayed you
the leering boyfriend who eyes-up
the waitress in the restaurant

I’m outnumbered
my voice is drowned,
after all, that’s what men do,
they let you down,
they hurt you, cheat on you,
best not go there
best just poems
full of regret,
best live with
could’ve beens…


From my book ‘The Poet’s Deliberation On The State Of The Nation’ (Penniless Press)…
http://www.pennilesspress.co.uk/books/poetdeliberation.htm