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’ .

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: