Gordon
you shimmering old fish
raging raging
against that inevitable tide
Though I explained
as you strained
to let loose through the catheter
“I bloody know what it’s there for…
but why don’t YOU listen!”
Crude conniving cantankerous
pale as a ghost
frightened as all hell
of that withering of control
Your arteries conspiring
no, not for a long and tender goodbye
but to burst red
in a blaze of glory
obliterating humiliation, the alternative
a slow unceremonious demise
amongst the creeping plaques and tangles
Shouting your protest
while others laugh
at you
at their own luck for now
but..“wait”
Spitting and spluttering
“write your damn name..
you’ll probably get it wrong
no wonder, always such a hurry!”
“wait..spell it out
letter by letter
in case I have to praise someone..”
And I hasten away
this gift caught, held tight
in Kendal’s wake
forgetful of all ill
