when else could it have been?
but glorious May
the late springtime of our youth
we were real artists then thirsty for ideals
I stood proud, defiant, raw
with vigour on the raised stage
at a St. Martin’s sculpture party
looking into the distance
as if it were the future

standing upright the son of Man
loosely wrapped
in a badly fitting brown pin-striped suit
with a rainbow Gerbera buttonhole
London had yet to strike me down
with cruel and rotting inevitability
I declared with lustful arrogance
dropping from the eaves
upon the spies of Fate
and four or five distracted friends
the hope of Art’s great future
their bright eyes and bright minds
animated through restless loins
I defied the gods
and not for the first time
a false alliance of cheap red wine
and the few rings on my heart

‘I’ll find a woman tonight’, I sang
I stated somehow knowing
and there you nearby
a goddess right under my nose
did you hear?
did it stir your breast?
brown sugar nipples still proud
with the memory of your daughter’s mouth
was I catalyst to that daring play?
that brave foray for a married
Slavic woman

you denied the prompt robbing my vanity
your painted toes like darts d’amour
revealed a tease of open toed heels
those velvet hips flicked
bumped Sappho into touch
wide mouth painted red the source
of a deluge of subtle snares
all the hounds within W1
sniffing and howling
every red blooded male
nectared into musth

a forties Italian diva
handing out attention like bounced cheques
oiling the rut with the whiplash of your wake
I slipped into those waters carefree
rising wet abandon
your undertow took me
then you, we two
fluttering through the sweat and smoky space
like two butterflies on a hot day in their prime
blind beauty in all its decadent foolery
alighting here and there
on monuments of freakish angst

it happened in two clear stages
as we journeyed a critique
of other peoples headsets
cast in plaster and steel
you clasped my hand, and dragged
me into a dome of mirrors just
our heads reflected close and hot
a fizzing bubble prickling heat
hormones must have sluiced us then
nervous laughter voiced retreat
you pulled me down and out
around up stairs and wading through
the viscous crowd the human bloom

at last a sanctuary shell like keep
who’d made that nuptial cave?
its conic mouth received our meat
you crawled before me on all fours
offering the fruit of your behind
a platter to my libertine kink
there then in the heart
the very nub of love
muffled bowel of the paper cowrie
two grains of sand we sat
escaped from the bulb-clock of time
History’s scribes in waiting
for that first illicit kiss
you took my generous lips
a whisper the likes of which
civilizations are sacked for
ten thousand year blood feuds fueled by
the wet slip of your tongue
most accomplished serpent
crawled through the moist bowl of my mouth
ground-zeroed the root-cock of my spine
opened my addiction account
with a fat balance of lust
you were built to broker hearts
sold my soul right there and then
showing Satan up a rookie with that switch

so grinning like Bulgakov’s cat
you up and left me
floated a spirit dance back into
the steam and swell of the party
impact bore me reeling
out cartwheels in my suit
breached the magic shell
casting with eyes of a pioneer
Cupid’s strange new fish
the heat the crowd and love full force
smote my headland
the crack of creation
some tectonic shift
leaning my fazed head against
the cold butt of the wall
smug with smiling afterglow
‘so that’s what killed the dinosaurs’
‘so this is where I’ll end’

and in that moment far across the room
your head returned
my lovers gaze
to wink and shake that Cuban rump
and disappearing
a mambo through the door
I wag-dogged tail and followed
and not for the last time
caught your scent
and laughter on the Charing Cross Road
lording it
I face basked in the sun
lips smacking a foretaste of your valley
nosed on to the vixen hunt
we were Shakespeare’s then
by God
and how we knew it