I love you like I'd love a black walnut.
You're so rare I can't eat you.
I'll put you in my pocket
and take you with me
when I go in town
I'll feel your crinkles and your wrinkles,
But nobody will know.
I love you like I'd love a comice pear.
I'll put you in a golden bowl.
I'll let the sun shine on you,
Till you are ripe.
I'll put you in my bag,
Take you to a meadow of buttercups
And devour you.
And nobody will know.
I love you like I'd love a flower.
I'll give you my best vase.
I'll stand it in the window.
Then I'll look at you all day
With my peripheral and my central vision,
Till your pattern is embedded in my brain.
I'll sleep well and dream of you all night.
When I'll wake up ,I'll remember everything
I wonder if I can write the sort of poems that the eliterati produce, after reading the London Review of Books, while cooking a Rick Stein recipe, drinking gin and tonic, or French wine, and serving a ten course meal to Nigella Lawson and Charles Saatchi that leaves her gasping in the most elegant yet sensual manner her tongue flickering like an adder across her glossily carpeted scarlet lips while her cleavage looks as tempting as my mother’s lovely breast did when I was but an infant in arms. That’s enough of that,The Editor. signed X [Books are not us……….has noone told you We’re alive,alive………..we’re alive.Thsnk God] I think I can probably bring in Heisenberg and my cat;I read The Listener; Weren’t those the days, Ah, for just one of them now. Anyway in Dirac’s space there are four dimensions …….I can feel for him.. I’m almost four dimensional in my living. I could feel myself Looking down on my sister from the ceiling And thinking,Is that me? Am I who? However I descended again after some sleep, And I made some earl grey tea. It was very grey; possibly i did not let it brew for long enough. Thst’s the main question in life; When is enough enough? What is exactly the right time for action And reaction? Judgment,timimg,execution’ That sums it up. Tea is quite wet,luckily.. I’m parched with the literati, The clitorati, The flitorati, And the fitorati. All we wait for now is notoriety. Tempus fugit. Sobriety.