All I really wanted
if you really want to know
was a bigger violin.
*
So there was I
I’d painted 24 pictures
but they hadn’t given me a wall.
*
And anyway it’s daft my being an Irishman
not knowing how to fish.
*
I’m late because
the motorway was leaking,
so far you’ve shown
one grassblade of sympathy,
so I’ll tell you what I will do
I won’t shave.
*
I was in the hospital,
I said don’t bring anything,
he brought me gin, daffodils, bananas.
I thought I’d never get out.
One day I’d die there in the rainy city
having written my epitaph
three score and ten
my heart ten cents a dance
among the small intrigues,
amongst the provincial incests.
On the sign in the window
at the bus station office
in some northerly town
seen in the news that night
on the TV in our front room
it said
the next mystery tour
will be to Rosedale.