I became a poet in later life,
despite my youth’s intention –
to be overt, clear, direct –
to act as if I were quite sure
and do all that might be done
to realise,
become an I
active and proactively
sure of what I mean,
saying that, precisely;
(not living
a multiplicity;
not speaking
a poetry –
a code. )
Later, later life’s reason might not offer up respect to poems,
breathing texts, scanned, rhymed, riddled with regret, feigning an acceptance of human liminality –
riven with hostility marketed as a ‘poetry’

not daring
not saying:
‘you, Cunt.
You hurt me’ .