A Bedroom to Go.......

I rest my tired bones on the posturepedic  pavement, although not quite designed for the human frame, my already aching body moulds itself to the none contours as if laid out prematurely on a mortuary slab.

The cardboard box and flimsy lining of the sleeping bag act as a mattress topper and if only for minute offer me a brief escape into slumber.

I awake numb with pins & needles in my hip and shoulder as in my brief sleep I have rolled onto my side and dreamt myself back into the foetal position.

I’m alive-barely-Oh how I wish I could smell my mother’s cloth instead of the pavement which is only millimetres from my face, damp and desperate.

Fumbling into a pocket for a dog end to ignite and give me a brief respite from this troubled life.

I never could grow a beard, so the stubble on my face is boyish and sparse, rubbing it with both hands, hard and with vigour as if to rub some life back into a child left out in the cold.

Eventually another day dawns and the world around me echoes back into chaos, I hear mumbled words and look from reddened eyes at a coffee to go carton steaming in the cold air, placed by a passer by-no name-just a gesture.

This whole surreal scene reminds me-if I’m able-I must get a bedside table.