Murders, mountains and poems

Kalighat devotes pray to the Goddess

Nights of ecstasy follow me down

Singing sad eyed lady


I wish I were crazy wild instead of crazy,

Wild enough to pump heroin to feel the

White lady of Sudder Street pimps


Two transvestites kiss lightly laughing

With betel juice smiles while transactions

Are made at the Blue Sky Café


I hobble to the Fairlawn Hotel with taunts from

Street urchins


‘Be careful uncle, be careful’


I was bought up never to show my feelings

To be vulnerable was weak


I never hugged my father our hands were

Cold as a Warburton winter


Boys don’t cry

Men don’t cry


I drink my memory with a limp and back

Home waits the Gatwick, jazz and rooming house

Murders with mountains calling songs and poems.

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