Nineteen thirty

When you can’t quite give it a name
but you know it’s the same old same
and you’re used to playing the game
so you go right ahead.

and where is here?
far away or near?
you’re never as certain
as you once were

When she sings like Al Bowlly
soulfully
slowly
I think I’m in the wrong song.

One thousand yards deep and
sleep still eludes me.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.