Uninvited

(the 28th of February, 2010, London)

I wasn’t invited.
At the banquet
I wasn’t offered a seat
No food was laid before me.
Empty
I watched others eat
And foraged for leftovers
When
Beyond replete
No one but me
Was left wanting
The excess meat of
Extravagance
Eyes alight
I wondered
What it would be like
To never question
Your right to be
To wear the seamless coat
Of entitlement
Like 'The Free':
With nonchalance
And grace.

The sure-footed.
Admire their solid ankles
Their feet
Heavy anchors
Secure against
The shifting sands
Of society.
The tilted chin
The assertive grin
They use up the space
Unapologetic.
They take their time:
Monologic.

Once you believe
There are Gods
Walking amongst us
Royalty
Unburdened by doubt
How would you not want
To neighbour them
In that exclusive
Dwelling of
Satiated
Sanctity?

Depart

(By Gub, the 20th of February, Toronto)

I had a dream
While you were sleeping
That the world was dead.

Aside from you
(And me) and
The things
In our heads;

Theo and Mia
And the houses
We loved and the kids
Staying over
And beaches
And barns
And camping in clover...

All safe from harm.

Safe in the story
The past
Our charm

To ward off
The warlocks
Keep evil
At bay

The unremembered
World dies
For sure

Recall the day.

Arrival

(the 20th of February, 2011, London)

Lay
Unfamiliar mound
With crumbs of
Dreams and
Tangled threads
To find
A way bound

Lagging way behind
Pursuit
Is a restless hound
I carry fear and
Hope that
All things missing
Will soon be found.

Ride
Taxis, planes
Underground trains
Cross
Bridges over parallel
Muddy memory lanes

Finally arrived
Shattered
I sink into your arms
Thawing snow dissolved into
Thirsty ground.

I'm not your rock.
Just hardened
Play-dough
Warming
In your hand.

Being Normal

(the 8th of February, 2011, London)

I hear your plea.
What you want
Is to navigate
Across the wheezing sea
You dream
Of that mythical land
Where only the Good
Can hear the paradise bird sing.

But all you have is
A toy boat -
An old wind-up
With a broken spring

I hear your plea
For I am a fellow
Pilgrim to that holy place
Peddling distance
Between myself and
The ugly, twisted face
Of my inheritance

I do fear though
That if I ever
Enter
This promised heaven
Where the sage
Are always on the same page
Normality
Will turn out to be
Nothing more than
A colossal gilded cage.