Crisp Girl (squat #11)

In another incarnation still
Girl with the feet of all time, sprawled playful across a party sofa.
She looks into me & I see her
the other side of a drifty haze, all clear & soft, like an old film.
Her mouth doesn’t speak, more defies in hard serenity.
I can hardly look away, but when I do
I see her seeing me still, green far off eyes.
We’re on a separate focus from our friends.

She seizes a massive bowl of crisps & crunches them loudly ~
all I hear. I am languishing dumb before those delicate ankles.
They are my goal in life, yet what would I do with them?
Such tomboy feminity holds me confused.
Words are destructive & can’t be mouthed
Words are for others.
I’ve seen such slanting sprawls of ease before
in every mark of divinity / youth sculpture.

Aside from me leaping up & stroking her short blonde hair
& kissing that cheeky nose (or she mine)
       aside from this
       we shall not never meet
       but not now.

We are for each other, yet neither will give the go-ahead.
Love those earthy bare feet, dirt clean.
I could adore forever those sullen lips.

Next thing: bowl is on the floor, centred before the door
~ in their way, who cares? ~
She snatches down & up each handful,
loudly echoing each crisp crunch.
She’s so, so out of it & teasing free
Her poise affirms her nature & defies
a thousand nihil- cynics & just about all anarchists
(I’ll keep her with mine & lump all -ists, if you please)

How long can we keep mute divinity within bounds?
Shall we not fade away, inspired for life?
“Together then they died.”

The dog of my friend leaps on her lap & she strokes it
distantly & unperturbed: she’s not there but with me.

A sudden interference distracts me & I let fall
the catchform of our opium.
Next thing ~ oh final! ~ she has risen,
tiptoes to the other end & settles like a cat on the floor.
I now see the crinkly soles of her feet
Her trousers tight  Her great curvy bum
Her dear head nudging comfy in a big cushion.
Someone gets her a blanket: goodnight.
The party’s over for me & I can only leave.
Thank you.

Life is final & I am still alive for this
Thank God, thank God.

Will I not seek her everywhere
See her in some
& die where she is not?



       Brighton, Aug 1987