alfie lee writing



HERE'S one way of saying
the place was OPEN when we arrived
they sat behind the glass LOOKING at nothing in particular
someONE smiled and blushed LIKE a girl
the place had no smell under the PURPLE light

here's ANOTHER
they DID NOT LOOK like they were enjoying themselves
under the make up pimples
the ORANGE juice was cheap
in the corner was a middle eastern MAN with a moustache and A GIGGLING girl in his hand

nightfall takes you by surprise
in the dark once voices walked by on the road
sometimes there were bushfires woodsmoke full of stars
i fell asleep on a rock with the moon in my eyes

on the bus out the villages and towns were stories
there was always room on the sidewalks and corners
we talked we were tired and homesick
the boyscout looked hard then decided to WAVE with his stick


home           new           poems           stories           index           about           stuff           speak           share on facebook

for art by alfie go to
for music by alfie go to
for graphic designs by alfie go to

all writing, artwork & music on this site
copyright of alfie lee
& may not be reproduced in any form without express consent

Powered by Blogger