In the morning peel up eyes sweat shut. Cracked ceiling somewhere I don’t know. Doubt. See. Thinking what’s the wherm I? Who? Lying. Man beside. Breeze whistling from a mouth.
Hello. Wake up. Sorry. Who are you? And I think I remember. Someone’s lap. I sat on. On a bus. And I see. And in that chair was. God. I know. What’s the worst thing that I done? He poke it in. Oh yes. Yuck. Going inside. And check myself. Feel I yes I know he’s done. Inside. This I should, I do know. Do not do this. It’s all that bad and could be worse. A lot lot later on. Worry then. Who’s he but? That man there beside me. Wait he rolls and I can see. Sweaty eye paps fill sinus guck. And he is balding in the light. Time to go my separate ways. Goodbye tra la la la. Get in the day. Into the street. Quick. Thanks yeah bye don’t call.
The sharp light. Picking at my eyes. Needle shafts of. What have I begun or ended? What I’ve done. Sex as. Go to mass. Confession. And I thought I would not this again, is it the same as? Now I step. Pebble under toe. Think about. Kick. Not again. No. Stop. What’s. See it spin. Look around. What if. I could. I could make. A whole other world a whole civilisation in this this city that is not home? The heresy of it. But I can. And I can choose this. Shafts of sun. Life that is this. And I can. Laugh at it because the world goes on. And no one cares. And no one’s falling into hell. I can do. Puke the whole lot up. Wash my body on or off and think I’ll be some new a disgrace. Slap in this alley with no doubt rats I am leaving. Epiphany. I am leaving home. I’ve picked up and left. Fresh. I’m already gone.
3
In the new world I am do this every single time I can. Don’t take them to my own digs for my landlady I’m not having that going on in here. Instead become myself in rooms of cold familiar, for to me they are the same. Blankets in the window. Mattress on the floor. Same as last night same as weeks and weeks ago. No just leave the hall light on and take my trousers down.
Crumbs on the carpets and insects bite my back I don’t care for. Nicer is not what I am after. Fuck me softly fuck me quick is all the same once done to me. And washing in their rusted baths and flushing brown with limescale loos amid the digs of four a.m. before I put my knickers on. Say stay the night but I am gone. Down back stairs fag glued lip sore on and wait for, get the night bus home.
We’re in this. She and me together. Doing all the things we could to make us mad to make a tale. Dancing up upon the tables. Unbuttoning our tops. Throw our knickers in the air. Get out of this pub. Don’t have your sort round here. Fuck you. Suck you. Ha ha ha. Chucked pub to another. As though we care for we are we are Boo!
And tell me what you did? Did you do him this way that I. That’s rank. Disgusting. You dirty slut. We drink to that we’ll pour it down our gullets and go hunting for men.
Win the day and scrawling all the things I write on cigarette boxes in my head or in my hand. And flicks of it and stubs of pen with just about the ink run out. We’re going madly she and me and all this time and I can be. Can do this if I like and if I want and no one’s telling tales at home. I love the. Something of it all. Feeling ruined. Fucking. Off. I’m ready. Ready ready. To be this other one. To fill out the corners of this person who doesn’t sit in photo’s on the mantel next to you.
At Christmas. I come home. Down train forlorning what’s going on. All the things that I will miss going back to the ground. Stickly conscience. But I won’t. For I’m not doing that anymore. But. It’s something. Peeling on the off the mask. Which? I don’t know. Sorry. Which way round. So she’ll see me. You will see me soon enough. But you won’t know. I am very sure of that. I know I smell like cigarettes. That’s one thing. And a rest?
Hello. Hello. How are you love? And how are you? You alright? Was that. Train journey. Tired now. And how are you? Long time no see. It’s good you can. That’s all my bags. Thanks for that. Yes I dyed it. I don’t know I like it something new. Good to keep me on my toes. You didn’t recognise me. Your own girl. I haven’t let it get that long. It needs a clip you’re right I do. God it’s raining. Yes. Go in. Don’t stand in it. Did you park oh over there I see it. And what have you been up to since I? What. Not. Does that mean. Sitting at home on your arse sorry on your B.U.M. Ah don’t worry I’m only messing. Are you at the shop? The still. The same? Still the. Oh right. Up a floor. I. Yes. That is something. Yes. Just pop it in the boot. Thanks. Right and. Hmmm. And. All the way home.
Those mash potatoes I like. At home with mince meat and peas. Burned. I like those the most. It catch me in the throat choke good. You’re so sullen I say what’s up with you? The computer game’s stuck in the tape thing and I can’t play again until it’s out. It’s boring God how can you play that? Stuff. Numbs your brain. Can’t help it. Just like it. I’ll show you later what it does. No. None of that she says. I don’t want your sister getting all sucked in. What? I won’t. Sure I’ll have a little look.
And do and you talking like wild. See this fella he does that. See this fella he kicks him. See now. Hit. That button. Go on. Now. Now. Now. A back flip. Isn’t it mad? Isn’t it brilliant. I say. It is. And my lips. Addictive in my mouth. Definitely blanging that one down. Bash him hard into the floor. You saying left one right one that’s it now and more forward get the hang. I. Hours of it. Hours of fun. Like we were Han and Luke again. Piddle fingers in the puddles. It’s stupid game. It is. It is. Is it not life and death. We roll about the floor. Getting awful kick from this. I’m above I am not. Not tonight. Together. You. I.
She’s narking though. I don’t notice first. Business of wearing my skirts to the ground and make-up. Then the jits I get from going without a drink. A little sup is what I’d like. I must not. Do not here. Go on a bit of Christmas wine. No. I hear her saying. Not you too now. Off at that. That nonsense. What? Every night. I never see my daughter now she’s upstairs. Playing computers thought you had more sense. I thought I had one with the sense they were born with at least. What? How do you mean? All that rubbish up the stairs. I bought to be writing programmes or whatever it is. Not for that. For fun. To pass the time. It’s a waste of it of God’s good fruits. I don’t think commodores were hanging on the tree Mammy don’t start. Don’t you be cheeky. I know you look down on me but I’ll not have irreverence from. You especially. You’re not too big. To? To what? To. Leave the room.
And again. Something else now. Salting her. What it is? You and your brother. You’re not babies. God knows I have done my bit. What’s the problem Mammy? Say what’s wrong? Well. You know. I’m sitting down here on my own. I’m on my own here. Every night. I’d think you could spend some time with me. But. Mammy. Oh you’re your own woman now. What does that mean? Well you know well Miss. Makes me craven sudden. Double up. What has she heard? Ah no. She’d say. If it was that. Sure. Yes she would. She would. She’d go spare. She’d not miss me hit the wall. Oh you don’t think much of me. What I believe in. But you need not give your distain. What? So blatant. Bad as that. What? Like that. Brother of yours. My mouth pulsate guilty. Why what do you mean? Oh nothing. Nothing. Who am I to?