Litany of a Life, Boring

In lieu of words,
Which will be left unread
Inside the small café atop Snowdon
Where coffee tastes of midnight blue,
The view is breath of my very existence

In no particular unholy order
(Counted by mathemagicians)
Preying priests of solace to bury:

2,683 hangovers (hangovers are Hell’s psychiatrists)
64 front door keys
2 babies lost in womb-space (or trapped in nightmares) somewhere
1 ballerina pirouetting away
835 unfinished manuscripts of ‘Forever Yesterday’ under various beds
3 unsliced wedding cakes (rings never returned)
108 Morrissey concerts
1 Mum-1 Dad-1 Heart
2 bottles smashed in face and stick’ed in stomach
6 scars (one diamond shaped)
1 jukebox (housing the songs of my life)
27 stains left by tattoos on bed sheets
1 psychotic South Africa (who very nearly fucking killed me)
2 journeys to the caravan trail of my Romany ancestors
7 ½ mountains (the last yards are the hardest yards)
1 broken ankle and shoulder
1 ride in an air-ambulance (saw fuck all as the morphine blurred vision)
15 poems burnt in a polaroid pyre
3 inflatable plastic sheep (The Welsh are still oh-so amusingly called sheep-shaggers)
2 untimely deaths of imaginary friends (at sea and an accident at the zoo)
11 scraps for the Cymru Red (bury me in a Welsh shirt & let the worms do their worst)
1 night of passion with excommunicated Nun (well, I write passion…it was…er different)
12 unsent postcards left on Hotel room window ledges
2 dalliances with Catholicism (see above) and an Autumnal vision (probably the vodka)
3 dirty weekends in Brighton (stiletto heel being flung from the pier)
Too much death in 24 months of sorrow
1 beautiful conversation with Alan Bennett
300-ish visits to places of worship
1 wreath for a love bereaved, before it even breathed
237 wickets (it’s a cricket thing)
3 felled ‘rats’ at my feet
1 feeble attempt at Teaching English as a Foreign Language to adolescent Japanese
2 aborted trips to the Northern Lights
552 rainy nights in Soho
1 unread novella on Paris – Toulouse night train
7 regretfully sent letters to pop stars
16 hours on a boat with dozen would-be wordsmiths (prayed for capsizing and take my chances)
2 red boxes of memories
1 reliquary for tomorrow