Listening to Sam Fender
Who I found out about
By watching him at Glastonbury on TV
While waiting for Sir Paul McCartney
He’s a Geordie tenor
Who had schoolboy trouble
So almost in line
For some sort of comparison
Except his album
Is Seventeen Going Under
And I am
Seventy going over
And the wind blows
As cricket goes on
And ukulele players play
Before we have beef curry
The world is such a big place
I have touched so little
But then again
Yes, luck was on my side
For the most of it
Apart from
This life sure is a huge space
I have so many memories
Yes, mostly uplifting
For instance
The yacht in Stockholm
Sharing a minimalist meal
Never so deep
Ever so clear, but also
Reasonably confusing
Never so quiet
Ever so silent, but also
Modularly resonating
Never so alone
Ever so not lonely, but also
Regimentally bifurcated
Never so doubtful
Ever so sure, but also
Consistently misunderstood
Never so true
Ever so the liar, but also
Malignantly caught out
To The Malvern Hills
Indeed to Great Malvern
Home of The Water Cure
In the nineteenth century
To the book on beauty
Indeed to perceive beauty
In the place of circumstance
With the sorbet of mango
The beer pump pulled
Pouring into the tilted glass
In that narrow room
Where the policemen came
On my brother’s 21st birthday
He was laid flat out
In the middle of the main road
From Huddersfield to Sheffield
I came to you
With no promise
Of making good
Though I do seek
A kindness
A calm of mind
Also that I might
Help myself
To a kinder body
Perhaps by eating less
Perhaps by walking more
Perhaps by dipping
In and out of poetic prayer
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