Parting Shots


not bad enough,   she groused,   you’re all Peter
Pan in a greybeard body!     dating you  . . .
living with you,   is like   . . .   I thought poets
were all ‘truth and beauty,’     but you  —  you take
melancholia and mania further
than any man has gone before   . . .    it’s like
I’m one of those hapless twits traveling
with the doctor—always a step away
from horror, cataclysm, world-ending
calamity and all in a rickety
old   t a r d i s   chased by dalek and who knows
what all in a maelstrom of unreason   . . .
though to be honest,   I must admit moments
grand and,   once,   the awe of eternity   . . .

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