It felt good.
I lived in a white-
washed room in north London
which was the essential opposite
of being a teenager in a car.
and I sat up and drank gin
under bare hanging lights
and looked out my window
at these other young men
with the caps and hoods and cars.
and soon too, they’d also move
somewhere. didn’t understand
that if you go a little way it feels good
but too much leaves you frozen
with no way to get anywhere
and no real desire to go.
but then, my landlord came by yesterday
to pick up the rent
and he drives a convertible
and has a truck by his office
and a motorbike and probably .....
* poem, in its entirety, is available in the printed version of the current issue.
Bio:
D S Maolalai has been nominated eight times for Best of the Net and five times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden (Encircle Publications, 2016) and Sad Havoc Among the Birds (Turas Press, 2019).