Chaos

Posted on March 18, 2022 by carltellstales

She’s singing in a room of people
queuing for her to make them drinks.
She’s weaving reality into the lyrics.
Woah, I’m halfway there
Woah, livin’ on a prayer
Take your tea, I made it I swear
Woah, livin’ on a prayer
A man with a history creased
into his forehead yells Come again?!
The cafe’s supervisor falls over
in front of the cleaner holding
a CAUTION WET FLOOR SIGN.
A baby vomits. A chair breaks, untouched.
The woman won’t stop singing.
My skin loosens. My ears whisper,
You’re alive mate.

4pm chip shop chips

Posted on March 17, 2022 by carltellstales

Six spotless trainers
zigzagging in time
to the music of chitchat,
one wooden fork between three,
vinegar-soaked paper
flapping like gossiping lips
and oversized blazers.
Confusion. Too many fingers
get tangled. The bag of chips
drops as fast as jaws
to the floor. Silence.
The giggling points to a
future of soft shoulders
relaxing into a life
of not enough time.

You’re staring at each other

Posted on March 16, 2022 by carltellstales

Her with a thick red coat.
You with a blue Cookie Monster jumper.
Her with a hot cross bun latte
and a slice of cherry Bakewell tart.
You with a miniature Tupperware pot
of sweetcorn and cucumber.
Her with not all of her teeth.
You with not all of your teeth.
Her with wrinkled skin and eye fireworks.
You on one side of the cafe.
Her on the other side of the cafe,
You waving.
Her shooting a finger pistol.

Chat up

Posted on March 15, 2022 by carltellstales

They’re on a date sipping breakfast tea
in between questions they feel they need to ask,
How was your day? Where are you from?
The carpet sits beneath them: blue, clean, predictable.
The clear window next to their table shows
a black car, a black car, a black car driving past.
The sky is where it should be
and then the ceiling collapses, the walls melt
into a murder of crows, the afternoon
opens into a fire as she asks him
What scares you more than anything?

Class

Posted on March 14, 2022 by carltellstales

The karate kids
are running towards each other;
one past the pizza place,
one past the estate agents.
They are white-pyjamaed weapons
smiling HIYA with a wave
then HIYA with a chop to the air.
Their belts are orange
like the weak squash in the bottles
held by their parents trying to keep up,
like the sun smacking their cheeks.

Intermittent hard shoulder

Posted on March 14, 2022 by carltellstales

The safety net disappears
from time to time, you are alive,
arms drop because joints soften,
a loose feeling of I can do this,
flying is easy when you have wings.

Just in case?

Posted on March 12, 2022 by carltellstales

They’d be nice. They’d be nice. They’d be nice.
Everyone is fine. My black trousers
and polished shoes haven’t been needed
for while. I don’t know why
I’m walking down aisle 25
thinking what crisps would be good at a wake.

Are you a breakfast tea?

Posted on March 11, 2022 by carltellstales

I guess so,
a bit wet and predictable,
made of idle chit chat
and the crumbs of thin biscuits,
gently simmering under a lid,
sat next to a cheese sandwich at a wake,
a disposable bag filled with a billion pieces,
better in the hands of others.
She was asking the man in front of me,
but he was too busy swearing down the phone
waiting for his double espresso.

We swapped eyes today

Posted on March 10, 2022 by carltellstales

and the grey lorries out of the window
crawled towards us with elephant legs,
past the gap-toothed drains and thumbs up lampposts.
A tree took the time to dance for us,
the trains stuck their tongues out like snakes,
the puddles winked like happy tears.
We saw a pigeon today, it served us breakfast
tea at the coffee shop and told us it liked our hair.
The sun was a yo-yo and the moon a full stop.

Carl tells tales

Author Archives: carltellstales