and beneath a bus shelter –
I victoriously hold up the cheap kebab
to a blurry moon like the severed head
of a common enemy.
A passing driver glares at me and I smile,
offering him a bite of this meat treat,
but he drives off in a foul mood –
far too sober to enjoy this dirty delicacy.
I chew on a couple more pickled chillis,
wondrously lost in the moment,
as if this was the truest thing
that I’d find from the cradle to the grave –
before an icy gale shakes the bus shelter
and I clutch the fading warmth
of the half eaten kebab’s tinfoil jacket.
I then make haste as seagulls circle above,
staggering back home with my kebab
and a small and stupid grin on my face –
like some false bonus from
a forgotten tomorrow.
Gwil James Thomas is a poet, novelist and inept musician from Bristol, England. His written work has been published widely in both print and online publications and has also been translated into Greek and Spanish. He has forthcoming works with Poems For All, Between Shadows Press and Holy & Intoxicated Publications.