Shacked up and Cut-up: A Man Walks.

Pen sketch (2019)

A man walks. That’s all he does.
This man wants war, a literary and artistic one. He works hard at both tasks when they aren’t contained in one slow attempt. His attempts are sporadic yet the desperation within him is on his face. The way he stays in front of the stretched paper, frowning as if lost, however he keeps at his task.
A break is called for; a need for human contact, and the unpredictability which is built into any encounter. He kicks off his shorts, checks the towel is dry on the back of the bathroom door and steps into the narrow bath to quickly shower. The cafe he is headed to will be semi-busy with lunching ladies. Mums and daughters on a dutiful catch-up. Wives able to prolong a careless work-free existence after mothering at home has turned into rousing teenagers in time to leave the house for school. These ladies tolerate him, he thinks, as he turns left then right under the water. He’s local colour. Or is he now in the eccentric, weird zone?
He steps out, bends over to dry each foot propped up on the edge of the side of the bath and carries out his usual ritual of giving himself up to the sight of his body in the long mirror stashed by the sink. It never doles out a favour except to remind him his stomach folds don’t sync with the chicken legs. There is a reason why he has pasted advice on avoiding regret and shame on the wall near the toilet, and here is another slip of proof to add to the mountain he works on. Far better to stand in front of the sink and try to provoke a pair of smiling eyes.
After ten times or so of tugging the door handle to his flat’s front door to ensure he did perform that task successfully, and so that slip is taken off the pile, the ship-like corridor is walked and the once-polished stone steps practically jumped.

At the cafe man left yet seclusion?

In will one try kid ship slow, which

due of proof the door has himself,

towel to stretched task

after war, when stomach inside

certainly exists under front

Youth up the times

all stone turns apology pile

except to he that are by his

and already the desperation;

regret the mothering edge.

Doles end man.

Attempt at school inside walked left. Is

it the rousing end of kid A? Why the

mirror at need ritual? They encounter

his unpredictability, his avoiding semi handle –

both in familiar by a coming (he

of usual steps: welcome, catch, perform)
Propped and man off in polished

and up however thinks and

remembers pile into attempts

together of wives. Easy exists

on water. His contained ladies.

This mums and like within on now

each to tolerate for giving in near.



Published by Pat Mellow

Making fewer mistakes than Trump since 2016.

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