NEW POEM....
On Circus Road I sat down,
in NW8, so
I knew what I was doing
circling the tightrope tighter,
after seeing my heart doctor,
not my heart’s desire, no,
on the six month anniversary
of the cardiac implant for
a broken heart; we cope,
when we do, like Wendy,
taking cocoa; or like Yeats,
lamenting the circus animals
who got away. The young
actor from Mad Max: Fury
Road cycled past, a baby
strapped to his chest.
I was happy to see him ride.
I have eight years maybe,
or thereabouts, to keep on going.
To make a go of it all. Standing up
to endure feathered stallions
on a curving weathered saddle,
as if starring in the big show.
Or not. No point in acting up,
just to make a symbolic exit;
there’s time left to write more,
if not better, and finally grow
adult enough to love-glide,
part barker, part swan, all heart.
SEPTEMBER 5, 2022
Comments