When I lift my feet

When I lift my feet

Off the ground

Tuck them up

Next to me

On the sofa

I could be on an island

Like it was when I was a boy

Lying in bed

Hugging myself tight.

A scared little rabbit

Afraid of the monster

That hid in the space below,

Next to the guzunder,

Waiting to pull me under.

The wallpaper seemed to crawl

With little crab-like things

Chasing one another.

I could never grasp

Who thought that pattern

Was a good idea

For a child’s bedroom.

I was hemmed in

Surrounded

By warring parties

Ships of the line

With cannons firing

A noisy broadside,

In the distance

A submarine is depth-charged.

Jet fighters dogfight

Sopwith Camels

Dirigibles and Zepplins

Go up in flames,

As Concorde flies in a circle of disrepair

Trying to keep under

The speed of sound

And failing.

There is thunder

I count the space between

The flash and the crash

The storm is getting closer.

Sheets are for hiding under

There is always a clown.

The cupboard is never empty

Whatever dad might say

The fear is never gone.

The sofa is afloat

Drifting on the tide

And I am a castaway

Robinson Crusoe

Tom Hanks

Sleepless on the patio

Waiting for sharks to stop

Circling.

A great white

Can take a penguin

Right off the beach

And on reflection

Every time I put my foot

Down on the ground

I complete a circuit

A battery of psychometric tests

Firing neurons

And those crazy thoughts

Come back

To play with me again.