Issue Two,

Autumn 2020

STREET LIFE

Simon Alderwick

Poetry

day is dead

day is dead, chicken shop carcass

chalk outlines drawn on the street

 

the city's rhythm, lost in laughter

haunted houses, broken dreams

 

last orders, visiting

time over, a vigil on the nightbus home

 

crushed beer cans reborn as ashtrays; CD

case paired with credit card

 

roll a dice and pray to know the

feel of losing everything

 

crowded parties; lonely people

trying to offload your soul

 

shared rollup in a back garden

a hand moves up inside a bra

 

hanging out, asphyxiated

banging against the bathroom door

 

primal desire for kebab wraps

drown your face inside that meat

 

the end refrain cries out for violence

creeping curfews, pointed teeth

 

the moon is burning up the city

a ghostly face at the window

 

the sight of blood excites these monsters

how to break is all they know

no place

no place, just a series of journeys

smell of clothes need changing

wait for buses with damp seats

look out at passing sceneries

colours blur, empty streets roll into

hustling cities

everywhere you look, despair and loneliness

those on the up are fuelled by bullshit

 

close your eyes, dream of something better

hustle up a few quid

breakfast at the side of the road

got you feeling better

 

leave a few dollars

or a few dimes

tip your hat at the waitress

 

the bell rings as you leave through the door

the door closes

and you're on the street again

Simon Alderwick is a writer and musician from Surrey,  He has spent most of the last five years living in the Philippines and has also travelled in Europe, Asia and Central America.  His work is featured or forthcoming in Eye Flash, Dust, Near Window, Seiren.

QUINCE magazine