Friday

Friday.

Drive around been alone for a week now,

don’t want a woman, I see pathetic figures

lurking in dark ally ways and under trees,

prostitution is boring, money, cruelty and

graceless sex; not a sensible word spoken;

drive off disgusted by the netherworld of

mankind. Bright light of a big supermarket

beckons, it’s Friday family shopping day.

Christmas décor, children eating ice cream;

lonely people, mostly middle aged women,

closed faces, stern lips, acting as in a hurry

if I speak to one she will move away, but

she needs someone to talk to as much as me.

I say nothing, but listen to spoken silence

that mingles with the warm voice of a child

and the cold air from the exit.