STILL SHE TALKED.

A BOY AND GIRL IN OSLO IN 1974

I thought Oslo'd
be different
Moira said
not like

I imagined at all
you sat
in a café with her
having taken the bus

from the base camp
to the city
and she saying
can I come along

I didn't want to go
by myself
sure
you said

the more the merrier
don't know about that
she said
I'm not

in a merry mood
nor would you be
if you shared a tent
with the Yankee girl

with her tales
of love making
and with whom
and where

as if I cared
with fecking whom
she share her bed
or parted

her skinny thighs
you sipped the coffee
and smoked
your smoke  

watching her
her hair frizzed
after a shower
her denim jacket

and jeans
the open necked blouse
sight of a cleavage
nicely done

and the black leather
she wears
it's a surprise to me
that she doesn't wear

leather underwear
as well
Moira went on
sucking in the smoke

of the cigarette
she held
it's no surprise
that the Aussie bloke

sniffs about her
like a blooding hound
you studied her eyes
the lips moving

the Scottish accent
biting the ears
a thin ring
on a finger

her nails chewed
to the skin
and another thing
while I’m trying to sleep

she fecking talks
in her sleep
O my god
what she says

I’ve a wonder
she's not been murdered
in her bed

before now
poor chappies
who share with her
for their sex feeds

you drained the coffee
and stubbed out
the cigarette butt
in an ashtray

are you ready
to see the sights?
you said
sure enough

she said
drinking off
the remaining coffee
in her cup

let's be off and up
she said
and you followed her
from the café

her fine a*s swaying
as she walked
and despite the city sights
she stilled talked.