Which reminds me. He appeared
at noon, asking for water. He’d wa
after losing his job, leaving me a
and locking his dog in the coal bu
We made him a bed

The future was a beautiful place,
Remember the full-blown balsa-wood
on public display in the Civic Ha
The ring-bound sketches, artists’
blueprints of smoked glass and tub

He splashed down in rough seas off
I watched through a coin-op telesc
with a lollipop stick as a trawler
of the waves and ferried him back
Control on a trading estate near t

Here on the Hard, you’re welcome
there’s a flat fee of a quid for p
And wandering over the dunes, who
for the view: an endless estate of
kept out of the bay by the dam-wal

In later life I retired from poet
ploughed the profits
into a family restaurant
in the town of Holzminden, in lowe
It was small and traditional:

Of all the public places, dear
to make a scene, I’ve chosen here.
Of all the doorways in the world
to choose to sleep, I’ve chosen yo
I’m on the street, under the stars

Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their w
with a blade in the bath? Those in
at the back, listen hard. Those at
in the know, those of us who have,

I have not bummed across America
with only a dollar to spare, one p
of busted Levi’s and a bowie knife
I have lived with thieves in Manc
I have not padded through the Taj

Five pounds fifty in change, exact
a library card on its date of expi
A postcard stamped,
unwritten, but franked,
a pocket size diary slashed with a

Just how it came to rest where it
miles out, miles from the last far
was a fair question. Dropped by hu
or aeroplane perhaps for some reas
put down as a cairn or marker, the