About Me

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

Saturday, 3 March 2012

Love at first slight

Here.  Deep in my snail caravan
I put on the show for you.
Cups and saucers polished and placed,
Hide the chipped one!
Crumbs and cracks disguised
Under rugs and linen.

My disheveled conch into which no visitors come
(No invitations were sent)
Has been swept and washed.  Ordered.

Now you stand at the door.
In the moment
I look through new eyes.
Feel the awkwardness of imperfection;
The tired decoration and shabby bookshelf -
A dripping tap!
I see only the largeness of spaces
Left vacant with hope.
Won’t you fill me?
Dreaded realisation -
This is no diarised event
But your casual passing.

Scraping the guest list of
V.I.P. (very incidental person)

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