Migrant Poem

i)
always husuing corridoors undecided brown
we wait with cigarettes, a nervous burst of light and smoke
somewhere (ward seven) a life
a single hissing moment, and eyes of the night nurse
crinkle hallow like walnuts you and me cracked some
long time ago.
it was good then, before the loss the birds and gin
remember sam, the summers slow, remember them?
what about xmas picking
sticky yellow with tobacco
and old maoris, no teeth and bare feet
swimming noisy rivers no pants no problems Sam

ii)
this place, fruit tinned and tobacco tailored
where people don't smoke, they take man
and hullo how you making out
doesn't mean a thing
its all over ya shoulder and see ya
bangles and beards, lectures thieve ya time
while libraries and closed reserved books waste it
and rain, always rain feeding the streets
we tries hard not to leave.