POETRY FLIES I came from Oxford I didn’t go to OxfordI visited Cambridge once I didn’t go to CambridgeI do not have a nice tidy clique to accept my poetryEven when I write nothing for thirty years I didn’t keep writing when I should haveI didn’t stack chairs for the powers that beOr fawn over…
Broken City
SELFIE @ 65
Self-regarding Self-effacing Selfie at 65 Teeth – some lost Eyes – scarred Piles- fixed Hernia – fixed Ears – Tinnitus Brain- forgets names Hands – scarred wrinkled Feet – chilblained Hair – grey thinner Optimism – constrained Politics – centrist was left Artwork – little Writing – occasional Music- listen not make Income – pensions…
NORFOLK IN SPRING
The taste of salt on the tongue Kids gone to uni now empty nester Husband in marketing doing well Always wanted to write Met a small press woman Now I got a pamphlet Next year a prize Discovering a new poet every day over coffee in Waterstones Elizabeth Bishop is amazing I really struggled with…
Dark Marilyn
DARK MARILYN Our sweet matter to anti-matterthe gilded cage gridded, blocks, containsepitome of class, pleasure and power Always six paces behind, a life of serviceI brushed by them one east end afternoonAs Charles and Nigella floated by Like peacocks emerging from a stairwellTheir expensive coats azure blue, bejewelledAt a secret view of Conran’s new restaurant…