The Hitch

The hitch down Spring Bank Holiday was back to this,
Stumbling through high-rise canyons blocking views
Of dandelions and desolation, lying thumb
Raised up in hope and forced to think
Of two nights earlier, when kiss on fumbling kiss
Had come to nothing much,minds left to muse
On after smoke and talk and all the drink,
Tongues stuck like limpets in a mouth too numb.

And next night’s party in the swim
With broken joint in hand, you split the dance
Upstairs, me floundering in the hall. So what in him
Possessed you? No words uttered. Almost in a trance
We hitched back silently and parted like a broken win–
Dow that we looked through. How you smiled
I still remember, showing in a condescending grin,
Compassion for an awkward child.