not red

the bus was late
eighteen fourteen the timetable said
i know better
i was there for six, waiting
for eighteen fourteen
until six twenty
when i flashed my bus pass
like a pro

i hate red
except for raspberry
who knew it had a p in it
me, i suppose
a long, long time ago
before i started
forgetting how to spell
simple everyday words

the rain jacket is raspberry
not red
she lent it to me
and i kept it
to keep me dry in a very wet summer
my feet clad in walking boots
guaranteed water proof
just in case

prepare for rain
and the sun will shine
eighteen forty five and i wait
at the somewhat less than salubrious
ayr bus terminal
at eighteen fifty five
which is as near as damnit to seven
i call her

she is on her way
just passed some church or chapel
i resign myself
i was born far from this place
the town and it's geography
continue to bemuse me
i hunch my shoulders
inside the raspberry jacket


Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann

a logical lament

if only
i could massage it in
like body lotion
or spray it
on my straight from the shower
scrubbed and rubbed
soft towel dried
self
like dark temptation
guaranteed to keep me
sweet smelling
and endlessly attractive
for at least twelve hours
unfortunately
that is not the way
life works
logic is an acquired taste
requiring thought and effort
indeed even on going
logical application
and so
i am wont to remain
impetuous and impulsive
allowing no more
than an occasional
auction house nod
to logic and her minions
for there is no logic in love
love lives beyond those boundaries
rubbing shoulders with passion
and insanity


Copyright © 2011 by Eryll Oellermann