Kiss me quick
Often, we sad creatures
for peace of mind,
pleasure, possibly, perhaps,
travel at speed through
swathes of green
lawns, tall trees, meadows
leafy stuff, to reach
something, cold
wet and bitter, saline
sided by yellow sand,
pebbles, rocks, dogshit
seaweed, plastic flotsam
to consume blubbery chips
kiss me quick hats,
cheap paper kites
fast food, warm beer
and wasps.
David R. Willis landed in 1956. Goldsmiths’ 1992 then 2022 Sheffield Hallam University: Masters in Creative Writing: Ictus Prize for Poetry. In Northern Gravy and wildfire words, Longlisted: Butcher’s Dog. Nominated: The Forward Prize (Best Single Poem). In Dreich, May 2024.