Smoky night down the 

Harbour Street, Whitstable. 

The tea on the windowsill 

Is getting cold while the 

Night stayed frozen and still. 

The construction man resting

After a clean slate repair 

Of a decomposing building, 

Eavesdropped on the indistinctive 

Voice heard from inside the window. 

Tascam played the last words 

Of a mariner to the love of his l...

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He was smitten with love for her;
by that arrow deep and sure.
A gooey warmth between them;
filling the heart all within.

But, love's shaft festered, stinking foul;
to gangrenous, aching howl.
Through steamy glass his love moaned;
as he stood outside alone.

Those barbs cannot be reversed;
holding fast in a soul feeling cursed.
Longing for the lost one gone,
to the breast of a differ...

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