Where the land meets the sky
(Almost echoes here of Larkin)
Weddings of bureaucracy are my fancy
A new tenth hole
Across the valley
Level with my window
Boy the knees sure ached
All those years ago
Up and down the fairways
In and out of the familiar rough
Graham went to Malaysia
Tim is where he was, more or less
Me, well you know, memories
Maybe it is why I write so much of mist
Why it is easier to write the words of love
Than to be the giver of love
Maybe it is why I write born of compulsion
Why the moments charge at me relentless
& all trains of thought are evidently lost
Bare skin, that always does it for me
That and the silver blue pink tinted sky
Over the hills, far beyond the distance
Hear the blues guitar on the juke box
The soft crack of canons on the pool table
Another blue blood cinema paradisio
Praise for the Tory leaders maiden speech
Yes how the country was betrayed
To have built up such debt, honestly
All the while, of this sickly verbose
Their brand new BMW cabriolets
Sit pristine in the golf club car park
