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Biography is either masked ball or epitaph. As you find me, so we are.

Friday, 17 February 2012

Hickory Dicks

It’s never too early to be too late
At self-service buffets of pick-your-own plate
“I don’t like tomatoes”, “I’m no good at sums”,
Funny how narrow the diet becomes.
A world of the wary and chronically neat
Senses defined by the ‘all you can’t eat’,
Rotating menus form predictive text
Dictating futures with, “What to buy next?”
Broken down bodies sport ‘just do it’ shoes
Holidays run like parochial news.
Boats in the harbour that never leave port –
Things representing some dream they once bought.
The completing proof is all they await
It wasn’t too early to be far too late.

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