My name has only one s
though it is often spelt with two
often I’m confused
am I this other man
that coughs up dandelions?
does he stand in the doorway drinking my cider?
I have often thought of Charlie Bayliss
the way a screw twists from a wall
he has rarely thought of me (I suppose)
“Charlie Baylis…” he says,
“your name is limited to one s
I hold the upper hand here
with my two – I am twice the s you are”
I search for him, ‘Mr Charlie Bayliss’, in long swimming lanes and meanders of country roads
his presence on google outweighs my presence on google
he is as real as a fountain pen or a burning car, a champagne bottle pops
his black limousine zooms past as I lie face down in the gutter
he tosses a coin my way, “there you are Charlie Baylis, I hope you recover,
you poor fool.”
In the morning I feel better. Or at least I hope to.
Montage: Claire Palmer