Do I look back now

with hope or remorse?

Am I still as naïve?

Did youth take its course

through empty paddocks

and failed license tests?

​

If I take a break, 

solemnly, 

like a director would

before his dailies;

​

CUT TO A SWIMMING POOL IN THE NIGHT

​

Warped legs and pruned finger pads

afloat like teenage lily pads

with cuts on our legs from

climbing the fence.

This was the height of it

and that's what we thought.

​

CUT TO A DIM KITCHEN LIGHT

​

Two wobbly, naked bodies:

a stomach still shy and sucked in. 

Have you ever had your mother call you

asking where you've been?

"I'm eating pizza, nake-"

"I'm at Bronte's house about to go to sleep"

​

CUT TO A WHITE SONATA IN FLIGHT;

CUT TO SCHOOL TIES PULLED TIGHT;

CUT TO SKIRTS AN INCH TOO HIGH;

CUT TO ALCOHOL'S FIRST BITE;

CUT TO A CHEMIST NEXT MORNING LIGHT;

​

Was rent due today?
Can it stay unpaid?
Can my car fill up on its own?
Am I still as naïve?
Am I just too lazy?
Did responsibility come knocking at the door?
Does she leave when ignored?
Do I decide now, or later
when the bills are heavier
and it’s a nine to fiver
and the food in the sink plug
stares at me
whilst I nurse a screaming baby
with my cracked, bleeding nipple?
Will my kneecaps be crippled
only working with a walking stick 

and a forehead full of wrinkles,

pruned and widowed?

Am I still as naïve?