Robert Verdon, #237, on the deck

on the deck, sunbathing

under the broken streetlight

thumbing through The Captain and the Cabin Boy

looking for portents in crossword puzzles

drinking cheap tea from the cracked mug

wondering about the decline

of our civilisation

what would I know

there’s nothing in the paper

I’m sick of politics, and light

another fag, sip my shiraz, wolf

down my Vietnamese spring rolls

from the takeaway, think of re-reading

the letter from my nephew in West

Australia and how his cousin turned

his tractor over and killed himself

and another recession’s coming

fuck it say I what’s the use of talkin’

when you’re stony broke and walkin’

as Uncle John East used to recite

I’m older than he was when I first met him, I think

the streetlight sinks drunkenly

the mobile rings, the cops raid the house

across the road, and all in all it’s quite a

nice day

for winter