DREAM OF A NORTHERN TOWN

i dreamed of a northern town
run by a moody michael gambon

and a woman there
was a movie cliche
sucked back into her old ways
behind a beaded curtain
just when she thought she was out

again she guards old lags keys
for rent money
molestation protection
and
an
old and tired sun-faded thrill

her hairpin elbows
resting eternally 
on a 
railway sleeper bar

and i was some kind of new face
fixing a plastic stick-on speedo
on the dashboard of a childs go-kart car
while some hired hood
some borough market lee marvin
was mocking dylan thomas
saying
deaths dominion ?
thats just deaths opinion
and wondering aloud
that we dont weep
with weakness and relief
at
the start of nights curfew
and 
the sweet nod of dawn
that 
comes in confectionery colours
over
the 
factory chimneys
climbing column
of 
writhing rising 
snake-like smoke

and

well

come on

hang about ere

what right do these dream faces have
to rap and tap me on the chest
while 
i
am
only
resting ?

what right to assume my guilt
when ive no back story at all ?

i was born here
i try to cry out
born working
on this dusty
bugsy malone
garage floor

but
then
everyone 
but
me
is
gone
away

like some door is shut and sealed
in wakings first reality aches

and
i
am
left
bereft and anxious

and then
in a rush
relieved

relieved in the sweet nod
of another dawn

thats all the colours of confectionery
over the low and homey
bungalow roofs 

from layer cake / cineplex.com