Author: Ash Cheyne

I'm a Scot living in New Zealand. I write stories and poetry and experiment with photography,

I have just finished a novel called "A Genuine Mistake."

Busker

One way or another I’m gonna get ya

to the city that never smiles

not even yellow cab drivers arguing

about who pays the Tribeca toll before

crashing at the Pennsylvania

just across from the Garden

I wonder if I can go the distance

before blowing my mind

as we walk and walk and walk

clutching cheap vodka disguised as lemonade

with blisters on feet all the way from Brooklyn

to where the towers have vanished

She gives me hope behind a dumpster

in the village of lost souls

in return for half a dozen beers and a trashy tee shirt

to go with that thousand yard stare and crocodile tears

I listen in faint disbelief

as I hear her say I’m not enough for her

and I smile at a dead body on the sidewalk

and think of home

which you don’t get anywhere else











© Ash Cheyne 2017







"Busker" features in the poetry collection "Pretty Real," available in the Shop






	


	


					



	


	
Sunset 92


	

		






Going down to a familiar place 





where it’s easy to see nothing 





at all not even 





some sense of reality









Remembering the first time





little virgins eating ice cream





in the middle of the night









Little Tokyo drinking tea in mugs





with no handles in the day









Being told about the importance





of good teeth





not the danger





of fermented fruit with vodka





and dancing with strangers





as Sinatra sings for 50 cents





from the juke box of a biker bar









Having nothing really stupid to say





about a fake drive by





or someone’s Grandma





getting kicked out of the bath





on account of some drunk British guys





springing a bladder surprise









Indiscretions in phone booths





or jay walking in bare feet





sitting next to Pfeiffer





then  sniffing her seat









Looking back from the Griffith





and up at it all





observing from the brighter stars





that it’s all over now














 © Ash Cheyne 2021 

	


	


					



	


	
Someone


	

		








Everyone is someone 





way or another





it’s a question of whether or not 





you’re bothered about the others









Or what someone else makes of it all





when they take a bad fall





and need someone else to blame





for what they never became









No one can get away from that





as we’re all famous for fifteen minutes





for good or bad













It’s all the same















© Ash Cheyne – 2021