Sunday, 25 March 2012

Aidan Moffat's Car Song

I thought I could forever be your passenger,
as we gently raced beneath
the trees of B roads and C roads,
watching for fauna and singing along
to that Classic Love CD we found in the hired car.
A weekend away from pills
and paranoia was the plan,
so we headed for familiar territory
in the comforts of memory.

I'm happy when we move.
I'm happiest in here,
where nothing's left to prove,
and nothing's left to fear.

i used to swim over there,
but that pub's gone downhill.
I made my very first and very last attempt at smoking
on that swing bridge with Gillian Smith.
We all loved Gillian.
Expelled from school,
we crashed the graduates' ball
in the function room of that hotel,
and I came second-last
in the treasure hunt.

I'm happy when we move.
I'm happiest in here.
where nothing's left to prove,
and nothing's left to fear.

So let's do it.
Let's sell our home and all our things,
and buy a camper van,
and live on service station junk food
and roadside pub lunches.
We can burn our smartphones,
and donate the computer
to the school down the road,
leave binbags full of clothes
we never wear outside the charity shop,
and just go.

We walk to the shore,
and I think I could keep going,
till someone deep inside you quietly screams,
"it's time to stand still",
and he's right. So let's go home.

And while we can't build in bricks,
I can build in my heart.
where we know heretics,
and we know where to start,
if the foundations rot,
should the wrecking ball swing,
if I misplace my plot,
and so lose everything
just remember us here,
hand in hand by the shore
and forget each dried tear,
and the burdens we bore.

Sunday, 18 March 2012


At times, the only urge I feel
is to roll over to face
the other side of the beds we shared
and ask you, "are you okay?"
as I kiss you on the forehead.

Saturday, 17 March 2012


We give strange names
to the daggers we
drive into our lives
hoping someone else
will come by
and know how
to pull them out.
All we want is to
be grateful. Lost in
the warmth of
To feel as if we
can carry each other
and, in the darker
corners of our
hopes and fears
cling to someone
who will save us.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012


The air is razor wire
My skin shreds when
I try to make bridges
out of our forearms

The sun takes a piss
on a cool spring breeze
And the smoke snakes
through our hair as we kiss.

I move to find I am turgid
still a part of the ground
And I let go of loftier ideals
like self-expression and will

The fruit I bear weighs me down
And with mirth, you pick
at the life on my bending boughs
And leave what is left at my feet.

With somber eyes, I think
it's time to admit
what we felt all along.

Monday, 12 March 2012


My toe is always drawn to
the most treacherous of waters
Why can we not just sit
on your porch with our wine
and talk of something banal
like petrol prices, or the weather?

Every breath stops me from dying
And there you sit, splendorous
As I wonder what God is
and (whatever it may be)
Why I always find myself
neck-deep in deuterium
when I don't know how to swim.

Don't throw me a rope.
Let me thrash this out.
Let me see if I can
lose you in the waves.
Let me see if the mirrors we carry
can show me what we look like.
Let me see if we were
at all, meant to be.

Monday, 5 March 2012

Nicholas and Plato

You may claim
that we'll just be friends
And that is how
it was meant to be.

Ten years from now,
I will still want
The taste of my tobacco lips
to swill in your whiskey
while your anxious tongue
flicks your Monroe.

I will bend the crease
in the fiercest of your coattails
and stupidly wonder why
I burrow into green waters
at once shimmering and empty
To allow myself to see
my rough hands
grabbing you by the collar
And pulling you closer
To keep you away. Forever.