”So what do you know about me”
“I know that you’re left handed”
“How do you know that?”
“I look over when you write”
“What else”
“That’s it”
“So then you know nothing”
“That’s the point isn’t it?”
“The point in what?”
“The point in our conversation”
About the Creator
John Gilroy
I'm a writer from London, now based in Leeds. Anecdotes, trians of thought and poems are what I write.
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Cigarettes thrown away
Cigarettes thrown away gone to wast in the train or at least that was where I aimed, its a bit off these days, I used to be on the basketball team don't you know, who actually cares its a half joke said at the bar to hide the subtle self embarrassment of missing the gaps in the floor when flicking away that cigarette butt don't worry it'll pass in a moment. I tell myself and whoever else can read my thoughts.My partner maybe. We enter the bar. We enter the house. Whereever I am I feel the door close behind me. I let it close yet I dont close it, my hand is simply there as a crutch for the weight to lean against. We're inside now the moments over. We're warm and the ligths are on. There's noise and some sense of reality. Waiting for the time to pass anyway. We either put the kettle on or go to rejoin our mates and put a smile on our faces as we sit back down amoungst everybody, or alone.
By John Gilroyabout a year ago in Poets
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