You are the modern example

of the Playboy whose morals took a long, lingering hike

one summer’s day in the Midlands

and you smiled at all as the cream sat proudly upon your lips

like a tomcat on heat and the hand

stayed shuffling and straightening, readjusting in your pocket.

 

Ah but you thrilled all with tales of money spurned

and like a poorly run casino you kindly splashed out

on things to keep the bloated creature named economy

happy, sated and desired as it kept you

utterly happy to place a pint with false good cheer in the direction

of those you called friend.

 

I know you to believe that you are the modern playboy

of the western world. All that is missing from the self-taught

obnoxious swagger and sickly oozing forged in fire confidence,

the somehow larger than life personality drowning

in its benevolence  and laugh that’s just a little too loud…

is you.

 

I look at the counterfeit that I once allowed

to stand beside me and I wretch with disgust

at the thought of what I swallowed that spewed

from your mouth and I realise now that I may be broke,

broken, inept, mentally damaged and perhaps even cowardly

but at least I am not you.

 

Ian D. Hall 2014