The stricken.

I stood there watching the struck and striken 

Taking turn with cues from matches left at the foot

Plate of the empty music box needing retuning

jacks too the rest of the Havana kernels 

the clubs thrown down to Friday’s girl on shore

As trains coastal trail the twine 

The humidor smoking rewiring .


The sockets and three waiting to please

by the encircled Lover of sun screen art 

Of peeling anaemia.


There are those that should be grateful 

the rear views never made the dusted prints

before during or after late nights voyeurs. 


Pollsters diary of salted course.