Better Days

Striding into confusion in an attempt to defy the death rattle of my youthful ideals On a coach heading east out of Galway Out past the Great Southern Hotel I'm on the run again I'm on the run from a broken marraige A loveless life, an unhappy wife and two beautiful broken children I meet up with the dreadlocked girl from Dublin With hungover eyes and a pocketful of cannabis Pale and thin and strangely dressed She looks like she could be used to frighten birds I'm attracted by her gaunt desperation She smells of soil and of unspeakable secrets and so smoking like naughty schoolkids on the backseat We get wrecked on the dope and talk of sadism sexual deviance and everyday life She shows me a scar on her forehead where her lover cut her with diamonds and punches and as I attempt an expression of sympathy she silences me with a kiss "We are born into violence" she says "Amongst blood, sweat and screaming and forceps and slaps" I tell her about a boy I met who stabbed his father in the throat and left him to die The boy had stared at me with amphetamine intensity and I saw the bruises beneath his anger and fear and suddenly I knew he had his reasons "Revelations like this" I say "Help pass the day" She smiles and touching me intimately mumbles something about being "Hung like Jesus" Even though i'm not religious I cross myself anyway Just to be sure We fall asleep during half hearted sex No guilt to be felt Just a listless phase accompanying our spiralling descent She lays unselfconsciously her head in my lap framed by snakes and sleeping As we reach our destination and daylight rearranges my senses she wakes rubbing at her eyes like a new born infant trying to rub away all the bad stuff she yawns and stretches and I excuse myself Stumbling outside I clock on to the morning Shivering in Dun Laoighre with a stinking headache and a stain on my soul and a smile on my face I could think of better places and better ways but I guess my conscience has seen better days I feel a hand on my shoulder and as I turn around she presses her name into my hand "Get in touch" she says A cold wind of indifference drifts between us I turn to look at some billboards in the distance "Smoking is bad for your health" I say and we both laugh And I promise her i'll get in touch