exit stage left

he worked there too
I would see him
in the foyer
coming in for evening class
asking me about open mics
chatting scenes & actors
mouth wide
goatee curling
like a thick black
hedgehog
under attack
always a laugh
a long toothy laugh
& then his tall man’s hand
extending & shaking

& then I stopped seeing him
& then I didn’t work there
anymore
anyway
& then
I heard the news

a balcony somewhere hot

he picked up the rock

expecting to find
perfection

but instead found
dead bugs
& happiness

he didn’t notice either

because that’s not what
he was looking for

Fruit Bowl

she rearranged
my furniture
while I was out
& later
tied me
to a chair
& used a blindfold

she bought me
a fruit bowl
blue fairy
lights
and
a Paddington Bear coat

I regretted ever
letting her
have a key

wealthy daughters
come along like rain

too much
& not enough

after I’d finally found
an umbrella
her father
remarked
that I hadn’t been
up to standard
in the first place

twenty years later
I still have the fruit bowl
& I’m still laughing

Mum Shagged the Milkman

but it’s not
as bad as
it sounds

she married him
& he was a barman
when they first met

then later
at some point
my brothers
& I
attended
their wedding
in pin stripe shirts

I still remember
the day
I found out
I was the dictionary
definition of a bastard

I still remember
feeling a little surprised
disappointed even
that the words
had no effect on me

but maybe that was when
I first learned
words can
just be
words

& nothing
at all

A Golden Ale Sky

the horizon
is pouring
itself
almost
imperceptibly
slowly
westward
shifting
its
every
thing
fraction by
fraction

either that
or I’m more fucked

than I realise

the remedy

for most
things

sleep

& the warmth
of someone
you’d
die
for

Danny D. Ford’s poetry & artwork has appeared in numerous online and print titles. He has sixteen chapbooks to his name, including the recent collections Rum Lime Rum (Laughing Ronin Press 2023) and Sucking on a Wet Pint (Anxiety Press 2022). He can be found in Bergamo, Italy.