Questions Before a Kip
That night— tummy, wide with crust cut sandwiches
PG Tips & lemonade, a Jaffa Cake
—a sopping head & heart that he are cradles by his self
: he couldn’t be much more the jovial.
Charlie, sinks in the goose down of the Jesus Army cot
the cross above his noggin is softened the dark
with its unnatural glow— a relic memory pops up
: his mom’s moisturized hand, rustling his ginger hair
in preparation of his forehead for a dreamy kip.
From bed now listens while the Jesus Army people pray
one like a tin machine repeat
: the blood of the lamb the blood of the lamb over & over again & again
till consciousness him part from for the moon’s night shift
—his whinnying voice a burden on attempting sleep
: I think them ill with sumfin that am piled with doubt…
…Godly God why they is like this in tongues & that?
it funny eh? N’ who this Jeezoos fella they is luvy-duvy with so bloody much?
you… never speak like them’s, do ya?
Nota: tell Jesus Army Brothers Godly God am lisping curst
— he far from in’t a perfect chap by a gobbin’s worth
: he gambles much with human drama, rants & moans at us
— is like a draft of rum at times.
N’ Charlie Kipperson dreamt his dream of dark seas again.