You reach for the unreachable
Yet are unable to haul the boat ashore
You turn to philosophy
To other men's observations
Yet you say that you are indifferent
To the indifference
It is only a superficial statement, nothing at all
To do with the reflections of love, of poetry
You would take off your shoes and socks
Roll up your cotton chino trousers
Stride out into the water, wilful
To haul the boat ashore
Yet the vessel is empty
She is in there no more
Nothing now but the defections
The deflections of love, and poetry
Instead you sip your cold coffee
Rock a little while, in your rocking chair
Nothing now is nothing, nor as it ever was
