(College Art and Poetry… I always did love this one though.)
She sang “Shook Me All Night Long” to his cat’s green eyes
when he wasn’t with her. When he returned, they argued
whether the cat was black or brown and had it been fed.
Otherwise they talked, held hands, allowing Lenny Kravitz’s aria
to wake them in them dark, still hugging, cat in between.
Dried flowers in old green glass cokes,
clippings of peace protests they attended, next to ripped paintings of his stuck
on with blue tack.
Sometimes solicitude would fill the spaces, dripping onto unchanged sheets
and folded down paper bags filled with empty bottles.
By the door, cans of half finished Carlsberg used as ashtrays, created dark muck like in the drains of Tsimsy -where friends puked in.
When she spoke, spilt out of his eyes onto her hands were bright/blue/thick
nailvarnish glittered/staining impossible to remove.
She ran her fingernails down his head while sucked on the tips of his hair
-which tasted gold of the Benson and Hedges he smoke.
They ate chocolate and lettuce dipped in alcohol
and bottled Bacardi and candy for breakfast. Then
and when last borrowed sachet of soup ran out;
and they’d had enough MacDonald’s to feel ill
The whispered Hershey kisses turned sour
Yan Sham-Shackleton Online 