contractions

 contractions

i am 75

and only just learning to speak 

for fuck’s sake

all those regrets and the regret

that i am still falling short

in the same old way

such contraction ends in the nursery 

the colour of the cot and that tiny chair

back from the running it always ends

there in that little room 

all the world’s dark lanes walk in unannounced 

and in every dark wet window

my father’s face concurs 

it was always raining

and it still is 

it was always cold

and it still is 

every corner dark

and they still are

draw the curtains

don’t let the moonshine

alight on these tears

out with the boy’s tonight

down town like