walk in a 'dirty old town'

shane macgowan [1957 - 2023]

these are the ordinary things we love

i.e. gazing into the face of our beloveds

folding our clothes after taking them out of the dryer

the sound of an owl in the oak in the backyard

the opossum on the porch looking for kibble

& that laughter tempered by a tune

one we know by heart & heard a thousand times before

older than we care to admit 

& yet as new as a calf mewling for milk

we know you poeta after the concert is over

& we walk to our cars for the drive home

stepping over puddles & guided by discarded gum wrappers

this town is made ours once again

dirty yes dirty as your music echoes in our ears

& we can hear that laugh as raw & honest

as cigarette smoke breathed deeply into the lungs

heh heh heh heh heh heh heh