Boat Trip in Viet Nam
Sitting on that boat in Halong Bay.
The guide gesturing wildly at the cliffs
telling us this one
was shaped like a chicken
and that one
The Orange Vietnamese sun on the water.
Eating spicy fish prepared in the boats kitchen.
You told me it was delicious and everything was so very beautiful.
Perfect you said snapping photographs and kissing my neck.
Perfect, I thought. Yes, it’s perfect.
After the meal I smoked a cigarette at the stern,
Watching the rats that infested the kitchen
Fucking each other and shitting over everything.
Bus Stop Man
Still think about him often.
The man in the green raincoat,
garbage bags for suitcases and the
burn scars molding his face.
Sitting all day at the same stop.
Everyday waiting for the same bus
that never came. Telling everyone
waiting there his wife had fucked another man.
Scratching, picking himself bloody.
Eyes passed filmy, glazed. Nothing but flesh on finger.
Still I wonder if that woman knew he loved her enough
to drive himself insane and
whether she even thought
about him or wondered
where he was
at all now?
Stephen J. Golds was born in London, U.K, but has lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He enjoys spending time with his daughters, reading books, traveling, boxing and listening to old Soul LPs. His novels are Say Goodbye When I’m Gone (Red Dog Press) Always the Dead (Close to the Bone) Poems for Ghosts in Empty Tenement Windows and the story and poetry collection Love Like Bleeding Out With an Empty Gun in Your Hand. He is also current Poetry Editor of Close to the Bone @scatterofashes
Photo by Mos Sukjaroenkraisri