Tuesday, 12 October 2010


The recent week has seen a flurry of activity
What with Lennon’s seventieth birthday,
And my baby’s forty first,
And a deluge of music
Remixed and released
To breathe freely
As it always should have done,

And we’ve all run the race
And tried to fuse our individual happiness
Into the greater debate,
Whilst the baby’s been taking me for a walk,
Until he reaches up of course,
To be carried,
And I have to question the meaning of it all,

Waiting for this fall to show its true colours
And sully my mood,
And an exposure to emotion
Tire my riot,
And after my pattern’s been flattened
I’ll lay beneath the rafters
Of my house until you lift me again;

For it’s only the thought of you near me that sustains,
But the reality of you afar that jars,
And I’ve been propped up on chocolate
And cigarettes and pop
For too long now,
For now all I need is you
To bruise my cheeks with winter kisses.

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