I often wonder

I often wonder

If you can see my soul

When you gaze down

From wherever it is you are.

It is always dark in the corner,

Sometimes

I think you will spring out of the shadows,

Like that ginger kid did.

The big one who wasn’t very bright

But always took exception to me

For some reason

Never quite explained

By the occasional black eye

From my left jab.

I was a Southpaw,

Still am.

He wanted to fight before he could run,

I was always quicker.

Would it be a betrayal

If you could see me

For what I truly am.

Sometimes I picture you

As a critical mass

That’s when I want to run away.

We were always running

Pretending to be Spitfires

Or Stuka’s

They made a terrible noise

As I recall.

I thought that when I grew up I would be famous

But I guess everybody did.

They still do

So I’m told.

People are so easily influenced

By snake oil salesmen.

Warhol thought everybody would be famous

For fifteen minutes.

He was.

But he would go anywhere to be seen

As more than a commercial artist.

I have never believed in magic

The trick is to pretend.

It can bring dividends.

Alternative visions

Earlier versions

Creations of other times

When there were more options

Than closed doors.

I still try the handles

As there is never any harm in wishful thinking.

If I could see you now

Would you see me?

The truth of it lies hidden.

Deep is a river that flows endlessly

To the sea.

I want to swim

All the way to the horizon

And beyond

But the current is often too dangerous

For an inexperienced swimmer.

Would you save me

If I got into difficulty?

Or am I to expect no help

From any extraterrestrial entity.

Perhaps there is no existence

Outside of my own experience

Not you, or any other.

Even families

Are not always what

They were meant to be.

There is only me

On a shambolic ramble,

Stumbling gracelessly,

Even shamelessly,

Into the future

By way of the past.