Old guys run on steam

Old guys run on steam

Tip me sideways

It would be easy

The road is as uneven as I am unsteady.

Limbs and heart

So very far apart

Dreams of fulfilment

Remain at the idea stage

Decision-making takes time

To take account of the permutations

The corridors of uncertainty

Wobble like the scenery

In an am-dram production

Of A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Where waking up

Is missing the point

Of a story

Before its conclusion.

Every rise is followed by a fall

The mass of deceleration

Jarring the joints

Engineering explosions

Of hostility between

Competing muscle groups.

Who knew they could hold

So much anger

Toward a neighbour

When the outcome

Is always detrimental

To a smooth passage.

The ripple effect

Can cause an aftershock

Both equal and opposite.

The only time there is harmony

Is in nostalgic reminiscence

When allegedly

All things were possible.

Their availability

Often ignored

Until the memories fade.

Fitness to practice

Much like Elvis,

Has long since

Left the building

Although,

Once the lights are turned up

This can be seen

For the sad and drab place

It really is.

And Elvis

No more than a cypher

For Paradise Lost.