The News You Have

However important you may believe

It to be;

I really don’t want

The news you have.

But, only too sadly

Your whole body,

Demeanour

Broadcast it:

You have burned

The bridges we knew;

Say to Hell with it and

Two fingers to those

Who don’t agree.

Is it O.K.

My long-time friend,

If I worry –

Just a little –

For you?

Town’s End?

Riverboat gambler coated,

Thin collar fashionably raised,

The familiar windmill

Spins on blue suede pegs.

I wonder, now, why I never saw

The harsh self-doubt, the

Harshest of self mockery,

The dumb recognition of happenstance

In those flamenco matador poses.

Copper lady, right hand filled

With righteous liberty

As the terrible truth, vulnerability and blame

Crash down again; over

Iconic, decibel-lit harbourscape.

The way it actually is and the other way,

Held in memory, of how it was before.

So much to be proud of.

The air stands still,

The big voice calls on and on.

You? You think too much, preoccupied:

“Who will I be seeing this evening?”

I’m more intrigued by

Who I’m going to be.

 

28/6/2013