Right Here Right Now

 

Right Here Right Now

 

This morning:

 

Saturday early doors, in the gym,

nothing labyrinthine,

nothing fatboy, nothing slim,

nothing much of anything.

 

He thinks:

 

The 90’s are far, far away,

and, on losing their way

in 75, Slade refrained from that.

Dylan long raised his pillbox hat

to Ray Davies’ phenomenal cat

one lazy sunny afternoon,

he’s gonna be there, very soon.

 

She cocks an eyebrow:

 

Silky mistress, keeping score

says how they should do more

it being the weekend -

and looks right fetching

in that tight bustle

licking lips, something supple.

 

They’re eating breakfast:

 

After a half hour’s preparation

sets out a cold collation,

sofa’d up, catching news,

and if she’s confused,

he’ll translate –

fruits upon a wooden plate

careful cuts fondly shaped.

 

She considers:

 

The dentist for treatment

of a couple of gaps, replacements:

has sourced the best value

suggest he checks and he allows

they’re not getting any younger.

 

And they both wonder:

 

About lay, lady, lay

and it can be that way -

but often at this age

it’s something of a slog,

getting the sleeping dog

to wake up and bark,

how it’s only a part

of it all, anyway,

and why it happened 

right here, right now,

why not yesterday, somehow,

or way back when

it was told you’re never too old

to begin again.