Nothing At Your Feet 1967 Poem by Terry Collett

Can't go
to my aunt's place
again, Benny,
Nima said to me
as we sat out
on the grass
in the hospital grounds.

Why is that?
I said.

My mother's found out
we go there
and she will be
watching the place now,
and it will be too risky,
Nima said.

How'd she find out
we were going there?
I asked.

She managed
to get me to say,
but I think
she knew anyway,
Nima said,
looking over
towards the trees.

Does she know
about me?

Not who you are,
but she knows
I'm seeing someone,
and having sex
with them,
Nima said.

So what now?
I said.

Have to book
a cheap hotel
for the weekend again,
she said.

Where abouts? I said.

She looked at me seriously,
I don't know,
not too far way
or we will waste time
traveling as I only
have a weekend pass.

I'll find us
some place near,
I said.

We lit up cigarettes,
and sat smoking.

She was in
a green top and jeans,
and her hair was neat,
but she had nothing
on her small feet.