but mostly not

and then after
the week’s work
we’d drink our
hard earned pay
on Friday nights
and Saturdays
in bars and clubs
or strangers’
basement flats
where on occasion
love was found
in a cold kitchen
or crowded hall
but mostly not at all

on Sundays
we’d sleep till noon
or crawl our way
home on our own
or in the company
of a red haired girl
or a boy in black
as the sunlight rose
glinting gold
on a rippling sea
under a rusting pier
and a clear blue sky
yes you and I
but mostly not you

the week then
from Monday on
was mainly grim
with not much fun
as we soldiered on
our minds still on
the weekend been
and the one to come
pulling us back
pushing us on
nothing between
dawn and dusk
a trip to the pub
but mostly not much

years roll on
where did they go
none of us know
life happens that way
one day we’re young
the next we’re old
some drink on
like they were young
or wear their clothes
like they were young
which isn’t wrong
don’t get me wrong
it’s the way life’s sold
but mostly not mine

weekends now
come faster than
my memory span
can recollect the times
we’d drink our way
through all those days
the night times too
that red haired girl
that boy in black
those basement flats
those bars and clubs
all in the past
all fading fast
but mostly not

Back to the garden

Let’s go back
to the garden
and start again
she said

You’ve been saying that
for the past fifty years
he said

Yes but this time
we can try harder
not make the same mistakes
she said

Just you and me
like it was in the beginning
he said

Yes yes
remember how beautiful it was
and how innocent we were
she said

You’ll have to give up eating apples
he said

Oh come on
you don’t still believe that old story
you know your old man never liked me
from the first minute you set eyes on me
she said

Well you know I’m tempted
but the truth is
we’re too old to change our ways now
he said

You men are all the same
you always have to have the final say
things never change
she said

I’ll see you around
she added


they take a car to a plane
then they fly down to Spain

and a taxi to a ship
takes them on a cruise trip

to the places they must see
their bucket lists must be

ticked before they die
or the pension pot runs dry

I tell you it’s no lie
they’re carbon guzzling flies

buzzing buzzing by
as the planet coughs and dies