thoughts of Joanna
Joanna her name,
she did not like diminutives
so naturally
I called her Jo
to wind her up
we were never lovers
in the sense of it
we were in too deep for that
meeting in the park
as she walked her dog named Davis
after Miles or maybe Bette
drinking tea at the duck pond cafe
shredding reputations –
laughing sharing mutual loathings
if one we despised happened by
notebook in hand staring at trees
we’d smile and wave and ask
‘how’s it going? writing lately?’
they’d acknowledge acquaintance
with an unwilling nod
and half a smile
‘working on Petrarchan sonnets
nice to see you… can’t stop,’
‘great stuff… top notch… later alligator’
out of earshot we’d chuckle,
‘yet another pile of drivel’
(Jo would call it ‘a pile of shite’)
good days
Davis died
Joanna moved away
I miss them
I long to sit again beside them
any bench
any park
anywhere would do
we’ll share glances
barely a word
and in those glances –
in those silences –
feast on love
untarnished by words.
Fun piece and some clever lines
Also anything that take the piss out of poets has to be a plus 🙂
Poets – well those who rate themselves – top bananas on the wanker tree 🙂
I changed Ray to Miles (Davis) 🙂
Yeah I’ve come across plenty of those in my time 🙂
Miles Davis .. good choice brilliant musician
G’night
This was so fond – I miss Pete. Emotional connection here – don’t be alarmed…universal memory of Jo’s and Petes, good one.
Thanks, glad you like it 🙂