NO DEAL

[Maureen K Clifford]

NO DEAL

“Bloody cold tonight” he said – his statement rhetorical
as he sought shelter from the pouring rain.
A known insider dealer by frequenters of these streets
also known as an inflictor of pain.

“It is mate” said the old bloke. His shy old eyes were wary.
He drained his papered bottle of each drop.
At night this main street terminal was his chosen abode,
“ let’s hope come morning we will see it stop.”

Two faces bathed in colour from the bright fluorescent signs
that flashed and twinkled down there in the Cross.
Where self-defence was seeing nothing, hearing nothing too.
Here bodies found oft’ counted as no loss.

Tail lights of luminous orange, winked on and off in the street,
reflecting in the rivers on the ground.
The bloke with shy eyes shuffled off, ‘twas best to be discreet –
discretion oft’ beat valour he had found.

Maureen Clifford ©
The Scribbly Bark Poet