I Went on a Walk to Clear My Head. By Gwil James Thomas

 

On a street in Antiguo, 

a man on a quad bike 

waits at the lights, 

munching a handful 

of Sour Cream Pringles 

from a packet by his crotch - 

a bright white worm is 

partially stuck to the tyre 

of a parked jeep, 

looking otherworldly 

against the jet black rubber - 

a man wanders over 

and welcomes the worm 

with a cloud of 

cigarette smoke,

before squishing it 

with his plimsol - 

a couple of floors up, 

through open window shutters 

an elderly woman stares 

down and cries, 

as a young woman 

on a balcony to the right 

starts playing the violin 

and grins, 

beautifully.

Gwil James Thomas is a novelist, poet and inept musician from Bristol, England. He is a Best of The Net nominee whose work can be found widely in print and also online. He is currently laying low somewhere in Northern Spain. His fourth poetry chapbook - Writing Beer, Drinking Poetry (Concrete Meat Press) can be found here: 

https://adrianmanning.wixsite.com/concretemeatpress/publications