Some men
Would mould you in clay
Now, don’t
Get me wrong
I have thought about
Doing that very thing
But how
How to create
The third dimension
How to stand
The legs apart
Or better still to cross them over
And how
How to raise up
Or cup the breast
Before the coat lapels
Are stylishly
Overlaid
Also how
To gift those eyes
That enigmatic smile
As you turn
Ever so slightly
Towards me
I may be leaving
I don’t really know why
Or for that matter when
Neither do I know where I might be going
I will remember
These flat lands
Which are really not flat at all
Say that again; really not flat at all
Yet, from the sea
Across the marshes, up through the fields
There is a chance of flood
Say that again; there is a chance of flood
I may be leaving
That time has turned around
The clock and I move on
Somewhere now must be the future
I will remember
These flat lands
Which are really not flat at all
Say that again; really not flat at all
Yet, from the sea
Across the marshes, up through the fields
There is a chance of flood
Cooling down
Going quiet
After a bodily engagement
Settling down
Being quiet
After a mindful resurgence
Out of down
Into quiet
After a presence emergent
All around
Yes, both nearby
And far away
The discrepancies arise
Nothing is
As anything ever was
So why think to repeat
The thing you thought was only quite good
Better surely
To strike out for the new
To take the adventure
By the scruff of the neck
But how to do that
The Algarve; entirely by chance
Ireland; a real leap of faith
Atrium Prestige; no personal recommendations
Other than
All of those memories
About Leonard Cohen
And his muse, and his music
But back to now; the yellow and blue
Or anywhere nearby
Is surely off-limits
As also is crossing that airspace
How to dismantle
Such a thing
As I alone
Have constructed
To take a mallet
And a chisel
To the white block
Of plaster of Paris
To take a wash
Of a darker colour
To the study
Of plants and flowers
How to disassemble
Such a piece of work
As I alone
Have created
To take a sonnet
Or a limerick
To the free verse
Of another’s life
How to destroy
A lover
With the obsessiveness
Which I alone created
