Thursday Poems: Barely Present and Feedback

barely present

wooden beams prop up balcony alcoves –⁠
the shifting pre-war brickwork of a private estate
a buddha plonked full lotus among stunted laurels
and the plane tree with its trunk as thick
as an inner city faux-by-faux hatchback

two girls perch on a terrace yard's front wall
recounting the previous night's hijinx via speakerphone
how they had to leave early before it proper kicked off
because they were getting looked up and down

what a relief to find myself here
a middle aged dad in a plain baseball cap
indeterminate hairline and fruit of the loom paunch
barely present within every scene I drift through