To meet
face to face
my face and me
to gaze agog
on a sea of me.
A sea
of sudden time
surrounds, breaches,
fills my head from source:
one bright blithe crystal
on the russet titanium floor,
caught in a chance manner,
a blip,
a pulse,
the fading morning bonnet fleets.
Gone as quick as it came,
we chanced a profound sorrow to part
and were gone.
Four minutes past late
The long and the short of it…
Cleared out the empties.
Priced up cheapo books for Juul;
Made some fresh coffee;
What’s to do next, Boss?
Review the twelvemonth, Arthur!
The third Afghan War
proved a futile sacrifice
same as the first two
Old top brass eye up the next,
mothers weep for a tearless world,
alcohol poisoning
has doubled, trebled, wobbled
quadrupled…collapsed.
Anything else, Boss?
A hard shoulder to cry on
Grimbeau 