Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Monday, 28 May 2012
At the side of dykes
The day is cold
Fog, frost, the Fosse Way frog
The day is cold and if I make the call
I expect a riposte filled reception
Sat in the mall, my mind is stalled
I am feared of further deception
Maybe six years ago we slept together
As is the way with lovers
Did I forget to mention
I miss her mind
Thats not just my kind intention
Though for certain it is those thighs
Where my loins verbose
Is the real deal abstention
We turned a trick
In and out of bed we were slick
Though in conversation matters were worse
We became adept at surreal pretension
All in turn turned to silence
Avoidance of compliment or discourse
It was up
With no structure
Neither an outhouse construction
To fall back upon
a poem from In & Out of Dream Space
Love Embellished by Visitations click anywhere on
the text for details