When Siouxsie played Brighton

by kvennarad

“… what thou gorgeous wearest, which scarcely keeps thee warm.”

Wm. Shakespeare, King Lear, 2.iv.


Jennifer by Andrew Ratcliffe

‘Jennifer’ by Andrew Ratcliffe

When Siouxsie played Brighton we
cottaged by the sea, you, me, a bunch
in a transit the colour of dubious day
an hour before light; with one broken

drumstick you played a kind of Roma
music on the guard of an old lecky fire
and I kissed every line of your scowl
and you let me, you let me; we slept

side by side, our shoulders cold out
of our sleeping bags, so we could
wake with our fingers knitted, right
hand to left; you stayed, as guard to

a derry, keeping it for homeless folk;
it rained before I left, I wore nothing to
be dry, shivered in the train, de-Edened,
but believing that two moons, you, me,

could only collide again, and soon, by
the demands of gravity, by its laws;
never; that’s a hard word, but I guess
I’ve grown up, and grown up with it.



full-moon-icon-hi©Marie Marshall