The Centre of the Known Universe 


I wonder if I am actually recording

The Centre of the Known Universe 

You are photographing trains Stan 

Yoo often photograph trains 

You have spelt you incorrectly Jane

This is what I hate about yoo 

You have have spelt itt incorrectly Jane

Spelling is not a strong point of yours 

I know how to spell cunt Stan 

Why do you dislike me photographing trains 

After all we live next to the railway 

You are a bore Stan 

Trains trains and more fucking trains 

It does my head in Stan 

You are missing the point Jane 

I am recording 

The Centre of the Known Universe 

You are recording your own madness 

Why did you photograph the breakfast table this morning 

Because you were naked Jane 

I always eat breakfast in the nude 

It is more comfortable 

In January 

When you sleep it is known that you wake up stiff and cold 

I know but I am never cold 

Grow up Stan 

Well it is like a flower I stretch and embrace the day 

And then I break my fast 

You just see the sexual side of it 

But breakfast is a spiritual time for me 

The same can be said of my train photographs 

But you just bad mouth me 

You are very predictable Stan 

I can imagine that when I read this fiction 

It will contain the same old slights 

You will ensure that I am naked throughout 

Just for your own pleasure 

Sometimes I hate men 

Are you turning into a dyke Jane 

You would like that so much 

I suppose if I think about it that would be nice 

Just think I return home tired after a day 

And find you in bed with one of your more than attractive friends 

I would settle down to watch rather like a hors d’oeuvre   

With the thoughts of joining in later 

Bullshit you would come in and moan about everything 

Then ask for dinner and watch football 

That is you all over Stan 

I think that this is going to be a Hate Saturday Jane 

Get your knickers on and I will treat you to something in town 

You see you are so predictable 

You note the centre of the universe 

Whereas you do not even know the centre of yourself 

Stan 

Are you hurt 

Yes 

Really hurt 

Yes 

So it is not a West End store for my perfume 

What perfume 

The perfume you are going to buy me 

The perfumes you choose would settle a third world debt 

Take it or leave it 

Just like my train photographs Jane 

Hate everything else I do 

Hate this fiction 

I hate all your fictions Stan 

They are so self indulgent

I know 

Stan 

Yes 

How do we end a tiff 

A Stan and Jane tiff

You stand in front of me completely naked  

And I kiss your golden triangle 

Then what are you waiting for Stan 

And I warn you that if a train passes

 And you ignore me 

Then you will join its passage 

And I will not open the balcony doors