006

	Graeme Kenna

			The Night I Was Not Humphrey Bogart She said to me “You know You’re a Phillip Marlowe And will walk me through these mean streets Past where my boyfriend was jumped And come back to my house And you won’t be an axe murderer. You can tell me about my turquoise eyes My Lauren Bacall bone structure and shampoo advert hair And have a drink and maybe it will be innocent Or maybe you will stay within my brown skin Until morning What she didn’t say But those eyes gave away Was that her world had lurched from beneath her feet That her man had been unable to protect himself nor her And that she might prefer It if I were that axe murderer And I would fix her turquoise eyes, Smash the pain from her Lauren Bacall bone structure Take for a trophy her shampoo advert hair Now her mascara ran in mourning streaks Because it was no longer the 17^th August When the Big Sleep had called for him Like a whimpering Elisha Scott Jr Or Peter Lorre or Sydney Greenstreet And she didn’t want A lover Or A protector Or a father figure “I want me dad I want me dad Me dad Me dad Me dad”