they’re coming down
as we come out of the station
into a grimy headwind
their beards hide the late night
that has suddenly ended now
at 11am
one has his hand balled up
locked into the other’s
breast pocket propped up
against daylight the spanish guy
tells us don’t we make a sexy couple?
he’s clamped to his nascent lover who says
please tell him no
he’s red-eyed and crepe-skinned
wanting bed not wanting
the ludicrous walk there
now he’s wearing
the spaniard
as a cape
em and i walk round
the block fill in a bus exhaust 10
minutes further down
they’re crossing the road
spaniard still full of dance slipping
jeans catwalk hips mad bee dance
the exclamation of his buttcrack
jigging for the line of cars