Memory

Age gnaws at life
Without respite –
Incessantly; insidiously;
Unnerving in its non–rhythmicity:
Irregular pendulums–
Not on clocks–
Dump cold milestones:
Another wrinkle; another grey hair;
Another memory…

I stoked the fire.
A cackling ember broke ranks,
Deluded by escape.
I killed it–
As I do a memory.

It’s the pain you see–
The memory bears the pain:
It hurts my gut, my heart,
My eyes…

I up the volume–
Let the hi-fi sing
A solemn Herbert Howells–
Drowns the memory, see.

I turn to stoke the fire again,
Staying the blankness.

Making Love With Memories

Making Love With Memories

You poked my blurring eye,
Let me lift your mushy breast.

We aged onwards
While you stroked flaccidity –
Recalling decades of
Blood-gorged coming, shuddering to boot.

I kissed a venerable mouth
Crammed with falsities –
Once brilliant keys
Guarded by crimson lips
Washed by a sensual tongue.

And so we writhed in wrinkles,
Tiring effort, and
Memories.