Tasha Decides To Leave Waveney Terrace Poem by James Hull

Tasha Decides To Leave Waveney Terrace

I let a slit of light fall in from the half open door
And sit in the corner smiling in the obscurity of the room
The bar closes down and the hall erupts once more
In the disappearing evenings eulogy of sound

Along the Pollock stained red carpeted hallway
The brown wooden doors hang heavy and blank
Protecting the precious privacy of the shoebox rooms
In which fledgling candles starve themselves of oxygen
in the passive smoke eyeball stinging air

The exuberant screams congeal into a symphony
Curling itself into every white painted nook and cranny
Like a fire place alight in an abandoned manor
We burn in beds next to radiators in a beer bottle Savannah

And propped up against the breeze block wall and the window ledge
overlooking the trees and dancers in the courtyard
I pass my fingers in drunken compassion through a bob cut
Belonging to a face that is a delta of mascara rivers

And Tasha tries to take flight with her Marlboro light
Dark blue slip on shoes dangle off my 4th floor window sill
She promises me she can float like a nitrous balloon
The concrete will absorb her like a paving stone pillow
After all nobody in the hall will hear her cracked boned call