Thursday, 28 March 2019

Crazy Mama

Crazy Mama

And will we ever forget?
No, I don’t suppose we each ever will,
as flimsy paper thick shred serviette
wipes marmalade mouth clean of kill
some sweet bits stick fast to lips
always did and always will.
Somewhere we lost our smiles
misremembered dirty bass lines
that cha-cha chunked and grooved
to well-worn dance choons and used.

Now that it’s all over?
Yes, true, there are no more words left in me
that rage hard, no black ink to spill,
no feather ever will balance the quill,
or pillow peace and still, be still.
Somewhere we lost in love language,
tore ourselves apart in anguish.
Skip. Comes in time to flip your record,
take the needle off our run out track,
always look forward, no looking back,
it’s just in the way you kiss what you lack.

And we will ever meet again?
Well now fool, crazy mama,
don’t doubt it, the sin is only not to shout it.
Some setting sun structures will always rise
again catch wink twinkle gold of our eyes,
well, sure it can’t be what once was,
it can’t be - because, because, because
two squared eternities spent in learning to fly
shouldn’t mean you can’t ever try -
so forward go
when I dare you to
raise sultry eyebrows to goodbye.

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