Self-Destructing’s A Lonely Business

[Swiftly] dealing out a Cartomancy
‘Difficult Conversations’ Spread
with a [Borrowed] deck of Alice
In Wonderland ‘Curious’ cards
… whilst, listening [Intently]
to the 2nd movement of…
Prokofiev’s Sinfonia Concertante
…. when I ‘Fell Out Of Love’
with the Freedom of Single Life.
“I’ve been keeping the ‘Wrong’
sort of Company!” I offered
the room at large… afore, coldly,
ignoring the stilling hand
of the Host… to head doorwards.
The City’s clock was just tolling
‘The Witching Hour’…
as I swaggered into the back lanes
… stopping, momentarily, upon
‘The Gibbetted Pirate’s Corner’
… to light-up a Death Cigarette.
There was a Tramp [Delirious,
in a Serious manner] giving it
some full-throttle ‘Glossolalia’
… I managed to hazily make out
“… there’ll be coffin nails
and magpie bones…” and,
I chuckled, in-spite-of-myself…
casting a handful of [Someone
Else’s] coins over in his direction.
“I shall avoid ‘Her’ street tonight”
I mused, aloud, spinning my cane
in the lamplight, and making
Shadow Play appear upon the wall
… opposite… from where the three
Prostitutes were merrily applauding.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.