the optimism of birdsong split night
with the cool blade of morning’s light
shards of darkness fell westward
in wonder at themselves

the fly flew erratic
blind as love lost
aimless angles
sometimes chiming
the bell of the metal shade
the bulb hammering its indifference
into the frail rind of my aching body
the sound counting pain
rhythmic searings
timed to the tick of the clock
the fly was your lack of need
and my hopeless despair made real
in all its buzzing pestilence

the mirror of insomnia hung heavy
above the bed where, there I took
an eyeful glance of my image
pinned, revealed

I was drowning in London
whilst proudly refusing to swim
the poetry of failure
courted my waking thoughts
tragic vanity refused
the mundane lifeguard
despite the Saline dread

you saw my doom clearly
from the very off
a chink in your femininity
fed my beauty trap
yet you escaped my word web wisely
knowing fate had me a black end
you had to take another for lust
just to break my bond of silence
I fought the urge to sink
into an ocean of self pity
my weakness and dreams
matched word for worry
by your strength and realism

nurture’s relentless brevity
had not made hard my shell
so all I met blew through me
mere feathers stung my cells

I thought I’d met Delilah
Venus, Aphrodite, Eve
I had- yet no man Adam
taught me love from lust

And the broken nails of childhood
Held fast, buried deeply
Bound my heart in rust

bewitched I chased you
then snared you as my bride
time's arrow, the lovers nemesis
hurled its vastness through our lives
space uncaring sublime stood by
the honeymoon ebbed and died

I held the crown of your kingdom aloft
a fool prince lost beside himself
whilst wisdom broke and wept
let fall the toil of self respect
those countless courting knaves
besieged our bedroom door
I shrugged with smug disdain
as all that knew me shook their heads
making book on when
my heart would fall

turning aside the mirror gaze
to fumble for the now
I begged, fruitless
the reckless gods of Night
for sleep and distance
to end the nature pains
laughing, they conspired in cruelty
sent forth their agents to prod
and poke the medieval punks next door
with tasteless noise and Special Brew
the dull thud jackass ritual funk
bled let sleep from metaled veins
and sung my nerves
a burnt fierce whine
a tune I’d never fathom
I groped for fair solace
in malt and sweet misery
then I wrote you a letter
I knew I’d never send.