some heavy morning some sky will ring

momentarily that this event of eating breakfast
in a cafe alone (where no one else was
and where there was no sign

of their ever having been)
was almost a perfect experience of life in itself and now
briefly he allowed himself to smile down at the table
though it shook him to do it

and it was quiet now in his head
but then he changed and those things he conveyed
so easily into his mouth these
sick saccades appeared alien and vile
and he wondered really about

really about

it was only ten minutes to walk
from here to a station
where transports could be arranged
to carry his body home
but he didn't know if he could make it

with such gathering of sexual uncertainty
as swept over him now

he flung it from him
walked out of the room shouting

they would hold this against him, no doubting

such conventions as he were flouting

he clutched at his genitals as he went
and slavered into the street where

with great clouting and shouting

the car hit
and he sprayed for thirty metres
until he hit a tree
which took his head off
removing all ambiguity about the matter

shit
he said
for the final time
I've lost my fucking head

I'm now all spatter
and I wonder
does it all matter

most important meal of the day
they say
with cloudmouths of grey
don't they, hey?


.
.
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(Winner of Poem of the Month Sept 08 at www.criticalpoet.com)