poison pub

wet street cold front exile
footsore unsteady days unspent
helena her mask repositioned
breaks open the joke the punchline
every conversation is unwieldy
streaming from another country
the further apart the better.
but now is not the time to be belligerent
and asking amazes the crazed
the effort just sets off events;
upended, unpleasant, the poised
poison every party
marvellously hijacking strident mingling.
The stare she emits across the bar
to single men in suits
propped up behind lagers
is blankness and dark awayness
an all or nothing headstrong amendment
guaranteed to eradicate the memory
adjusting lust drop by glittering drop.
flattering the batting eyelids
they're lowering their sights again.
it's calm inside her as she
circumscribes the Sevenoaks
of the moment she cannot describe
of the song that she cannot reference
the location is spiked with effrontary
wordless insatiable walls of dull wounding
and home is the station, the running away.