This is a question you post to the past
late at night when recollections of hatching
dating letters and trying to explain the future to yourself
when you were that uncouped chicken and
Forgot Friday’s grace whilst pew gurning
After half life drinking with the green.
The cross dressing when left alone for a week
With a director of the darkest throne
And you found a switch too the Trumbone.
on the floodlight blood course late at night
Playing out Music magazines found
Whilst Hungover with the daytime baird.
Muted fantasys Struck in a limbo of the angora queue
And the Sixties fleshed out movie scene
talking online as wiser men try make you see
Time caught you out with that fifty pound rye.
As the convicted convincer finds you a way
there’s alway a crutchless throng
For you to Work your way out of the crypt to the light
Of the line dance with multiple lovers
Obsession with the childhood lost to lust
During radio plays of the joys of decanting sextant
as you count the cost In fifths and Broken Spartan rubbers
with a coffee waitress Now Bunkering down
in your regressional psyche.
Beautiful illuminated technicians chorale hounds eat sugar
reciting the tempest In German with accompanist
as you remember berets and bowing
the passing out On phone books by the winners post
With A redial tone as a taxi arrives to shuttle you
to silver wings of in’s and out.