I have always wanted to be nocturnal,

To Live by the light of the moon.

There’s something about the stars – they’re eternal.

I pray the sun sets soon.

                                     reads

                                jest

                                            like

All night Tippi and I lie with our arms
wrapped around each other
like rope.
I bury my face in her neck
and she wakes every now and then
to kiss the top of my head

I have been here once before – It was a long time ago, I don't remember when.
But as my father handed me the axe-head
Images exploded in my brain.

I’ve seen those tough as oaks

weep like willows

even the hardest thugs can have tear stained pillows

most can’t see the forest for the trees

He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.
He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.
His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.

  Nicholas, I’ve warned you

about not paying attention

in my class.

This is your final warning.

A free bird leaps 
on the back of the wind   
and floats downstream   
till the current ends 
and dips his wing 
in the orange sun rays 

Dada taught me cards.
Sitting in his suit of pants and vest.
A fistful of joker-red hair strewn across his brow.
His big belly like a cannon ball.

Give me a smile
with lips stretched wide as a rubber band
and in between a set of straight white teeth
dazzling like a mirror ball.