Consumed

The sweet treat
lies despoiled.
Now, the gaudy,
shiny wrappings
overflow the box.
Where once they fit so well.
I, who have become
the destroyer of worlds,
take my rest

Back and Forth

The beak-nosed mod,
is waiting and watches
me, in the car-park.
His camel hair coat
and knife-sharp suit
are perfect. His
scooter gleams in
the lowering light.
His smile mocks me
and the sneer that
accompanies it is
supremely dismissive.
I get into my car
and his smirk grows
as I drive past him.
And his look says:
"This is what it comes to?
Not me, man, not me."
But I know him
and what will happen.
I know and
can do nothing
for him.