Silhouette

I’d stare out of my window
Across the street
Grown men and women
Baring skin for me
They’d stand
Facing outward
Posing for sordid
Immersive theatre
Hands on regions
Some clean, some
Wild with roots
Blooming colour
Gardens vibrant
Hand held strimmers
Do the bulk of the work.
I kept meaning
To turn on my light
So they could see
Beneath my silhouette
But the show ends
Curtains close
Satisfied neighbours
Becoming intimate friends
Their palms wave
Smearing the glass
Between us
But we never make
Eye contact
In the physical realm

Boxing

Kick those voices
With a good steal
Boot sale in the back
Silver lining shrapnel
Picked up tat
Under the leather
Shredded endeavour
Maker’s mark on fine
Printed souls
War and tear
Names rubbed off
In the decade
Since I bought
The lock
They grumbled at night
I placed masking tape
To keep the words
From appearing on record
Overdubbed between licks
I’d forgotten they existed
Till I opened it by mistake
Now, they speak fluently
Darting across the room
Just out of harms reach
Like a cat, boxing
Ring manners
No punch thrown
Till the bell end
In the middle
Turns his back