Amsterdam

For you I cry bulbous aubergine tears

As if you'd take me seriously!

*

Tonight I was chatted up by a gay gentle man. The kind of come-on where he lingers his hand as you shake (hands) goodbye. For the first time it didn't feel too bad. I could feel his affection, also a little from my side but nothing more.

I've had some strange experiences with gay men seeking a deeper connection, which one day I will describe but not now. It's long and a little painful.

*

Amsterdam at New Year was a warzone. Kids (up to the age of 35) stand at the street side and throw fire crackers at your feet, light rockets from champagne bottles, explosions ripping through and not just on the outskirts - from the outskirts to the main drag of town. Everywhere you go boom crash laughter. It quite frayed the nerves until the third beer and fifth joint kicked in.

We found ourselves a bridge in the red light district. Safe, full of middle class types and not too many tourists. To our left, a Moroccan kid lit a whole crater of bangers and jumped back delighted showing his friends - as if they could miss it. Echoes and ricochets to our right - another side street packed with revellers who, in the way of revellers finding a decent spot before midnight did not look in the throes of revelry. More bridle path stroll and negotiating a barbed wire fence (for which read revellers, bangers, possible standing place).

In front of us were the great exploding flowers of the main display, framed by neon signs and houses of ill fame. The Dutch allow fireworks one day a year and the people go crazy at the opportunity, hence the makeshift displays we could see surrounding and throughout the city. Even the main display begins at 10pm and then at midnight it really takes off! Cascading an amazing - there's nothing like a firework, even when you've been cowering from their hastily planted little brothers for most of the night.

From a distant, as you can imagine they were spectacular. We could calm and sing Auld Lang Syne even as a rocket-in-a-bottle tipped and flew horizontal over the canal. It was a multiple one, exploding green and purple, showering over boats and firing directly at window panes. On the scales of beauty and public damage, we pronounced a not guilty.

We made it to a bar - "Wonder Bar" - that had lifted the smoking ban for a night. Smoking joints and playing games with rizlas on our foreheads, it could have been any one of a million previous nights. But it was in Amsterdam, New Year 2009 and walking home we found red debris from fire crackers moving round our ankles in drifts - a gunpowder autumn after the heady days of summer - and ladies of the night tapping windows four our attention.

Getting home there was an Evelyne in my bed. She hadn't made it out because the conditions like Bosnia (cold and exploding). So here she was - warm, fragile and sleepy.

Things with her going exceedingly well.

*

In five and a half hours I have to leave the house, take a one and a half hour train ride to Eindhoven and begin a new job as a life coach for a large company hoping to raise the activity of its employees.

Green bohemia I'm leaving fair behind and the hours and job description delight me not at all. Though the pay is good and after all isn't that what we're here for...

I'm being over cynical. It's part of a move to give my life legs. I enjoy free time but it's run me up a fair amount of debt and my art - the great anamolous which we prepare to line our grave - has yet to flourish in the way of a Steinbeck.

Though of course between train journeys and midnight coffee houses - I'm hoping it still will.

Sobriety is how I feel. It's not a big deal and in some moments frightens the life out of me - grey and yellow walls and the military hum of serried computers, greyer faces and deader conversation. But perhaps not.

I came to Amsterdam in Autumn

Where leaves fell on brown canals

Drunk cafe houses dry

Of all their dim delights

Imagined myself in picture books

On stage and on the scene

When a woman with a level gaze

Sat me down and touched my knee:

"You've built yourself a prison cell

While pretending that you're free"

So I got wet in participation

Office meetings and stifling air

Water cooler conversation,

Conservatised my hair

Goodbye green blue pink bohemia

Golden sunset hues

I'll see you in another year,

Bank account with more zeroes