it’s a good story
the man on the bench above the sea
telling me all about the short stories he’s about to publish
soon
the word fell as a cold pebble
barely a ripple in an ocean of words
soon the echo came
soon
i said i wished him luck
it’s a good story
i let that lie there
but publishing is hard i remonstrated
about the system
he had more stories
of my eyes drifting out to sea
the surf pounding out the meter
you were saying
i was saying
it’s a good story
here’s a good doggerel
this is the poem
that smoothed the doggerel
that bit it
grrrr the word is
sit you bastard
keep still
can’t you see
i am writing the word nit
you nit
bugger it
here’s some food
don’t read it all at once
good doggerel
there’s a good boy
BANG!
drained
all my good points
leached by the acid rain of time
leaving a grovel of gravel
plaster of paris they were
fairground kitsch
i wonder how they lasted so long
tide’s out
the mud purrps and hisses
cracks
step not there my boy
step not
tide’s out
there are shards of glass
under the mud
silt off the river of time
below the wooden quay
where the worms are fingered
for blood’s regret
tide’s out
hollowed out
down to your toes
all hollows
the cinders are cold
the bed warmer is cold
a story told of disbelief
has more false channels
than the nile delta
tide’s turning
time’s been wasted
it’s too late
you are all you have left
of what you never were
stand
let the tide take you
it is time
it is time
a word if i may
a vocabulary can capture the world
existence is one word
mathematics another
infinity is a tricky one
give me time to think
to thumb my thesaurus
while i’m thinking
why don’t you give me a word
i love new words
they make such good friends
i love you
said vocabulary
infinitely
plus one
i added
This is the Spotlight profile page for my granddaughter Caitlyn B Young who is an actor:
https://app.spotlight.com/8135-0165-2361
politics
crunch moment
they clash!
vote called
the
‘oh for god’s sake’
ave it
and we’ve had it
a show of hands please
carried
that place that
we bring questions
seeking no answers
we refuse their answers
by our turning away
to return
carrying more questions
to lay at the feet of
those places that keep
silence
our empty arms
carrying our inner eye
one day one day
but not soon
one day
