a selection of despair, and love.
LOVE (‘The putz’)
When you look at me
whatever it is that is in your face
Is it the resistance your other lover would show to these things?
who bought these shoes:
who bought the shoes you kick off for me?
i want to be a different thing
wholly other than myself –
i list the labs and cults to ring
on a thumbdrive on that shelf;
but worry – the thing is done,
and a further self i want;
or useless, i won’t be the one
wanted the original want.
then is there, i half inquire,
a different thing to be,
if craving that with base desire
is inherent in me
Eyes were all I laid on her,
Eyes I couldn’t take off,
The words there had no mouth for her:
These that stay are my hands
And asking not to move
And never to touch are my hands:
DESPAIR (‘Rand on Thames’)
‘… the shiftless / orders of fools …’
In loafing queues the jobless take
money off ambition, whose Insane Hours
humiliate inadequates and make
this spectacle of lessers milking us –
bossily by way of HM state –
a standing affront: let go as unfit
the shiftless if the ripstop won’t inflate –
all toiling suits of Etonian grit,
bright-buttoned chaps of civilising days,
the perfect bounders who were Britain’s grace!