By Fred Kelly


Ideas idle between smoke blown buffers

and puffed chests, tense arms, drained eyes.


New jobs, old jobs, no jobs

and the smudged line between hobbies and work.


Adolescent Arthurs, lances between their legs

talking women.


Earrings ebb, in and out.

Tattoos are forever,

unless you burn the skin and risk a scar.


Bloated glasses wreck, moulding,

nature making potions in the residue.


A wasp, young, passing curious, passes in a pint.


The bell rings, retired from a vessel, now boutique.


Four chairs scrape the stone, staining ears.


They go their own ways.


Fred Kelly graduated from the University of Warwick in 2018 and is currently a postgraduate student at the University of Cambridge. His poem ‘Canopy Calling’ was recently published by the British Council online and his poem ‘To Late to Let’ will be published in the upcoming issue of Zine: ‘Re-Side’. Fred writes and directs for stage and screen. His next play will premiere in London at the Old Red Lion Theatre in December 2019.


Poem brought to you by Cephalopress @cephalopress

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

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