Under Construction @ Keele 2018 Vol. IV (II) | Page 42

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and how the confessional poet is not narcissistic or apathetic towards others, in the modern
sense of the word, but does have something to say.
Part One
Hidden Pleasures
i
The uncomfortable bubbling under those straight-stripped stairs
where I hear the blue noise of unfulfilling bladders,
prostates flushing, pale urinals – a smooth apparatus.
Stench made me stay in my tight corner.
I didn't want to go too far –
So I watched the passing
Of her old beau –
bastard through and through.
The gurgling image of wasted porcelain,
Stuttering in bottled banks
with piss splashed around the sides,
Reminds me of her single days.
Reminds me of mine.