<\/p>\n
WISTERIA WOMAN<\/p>\n
She leans out of the window
\nAnd trims the wisteria
\nI will write a haiku about
\nNext spring. She doesn’t see me.<\/p>\n
Nor can she know the feeling
\nThat surges up in my heart
\nAs I take her for a moment,
\nBody scented from the bath,<\/p>\n
Hair glistening after its wash.
\nTotally absorbed in work,
\nMistress of a sober mind,
\nThere is no model of her kind.<\/p>\n
Published in JAIA or Just As I Am<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n GRASSE MATINEE<\/p>\n I remember, when I was young It was quite normal to be healthy I turn over and gaze at the ceiling, Written specially for CORPUS 05<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n SUMMER TIME<\/p>\n (and the cotton is high)<\/p>\n A poem printed on her breast, This was hardly surprising Now I sit here on the kerb, Published in JAIA or Just As I Am<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n CORPUS<\/strong><\/p>\n I paste the skeleton of my day For once in my life I am awake, From my throat to my bladder the tea, The days are getting longer. More fun The fingers which hold this Parker pen Written specially for CORPUS 05<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" WISTERIA WOMAN She leans out of the window And trims the wisteria I will write a haiku about Next […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-243","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.olioweb.me.uk\/marcus\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/243","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.olioweb.me.uk\/marcus\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.olioweb.me.uk\/marcus\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.olioweb.me.uk\/marcus\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.olioweb.me.uk\/marcus\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=243"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.olioweb.me.uk\/marcus\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/243\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.olioweb.me.uk\/marcus\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=243"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nMornings like this in bed with women
\nWhen my deliciously warm body
\nStretched and sported under the sheets.<\/p>\n
\nAnd virile then. Life owed us a trick.
\nNor was it such a colossal deal
\nTo take our clothes off for a chick.<\/p>\n
\nDreaming I’m in a cheap cinema
\nIn Peru, Empire of the Sun,
\nWhere my basest deeds were done.<\/p>\n
\nThe big girl in the blue T-shirt
\nWaltzed across my path. There was
\nNo sign of recognition.<\/p>\n
\nAs I didn’t know her from Eve.
\nBut the poem was<\/b><\/i> familiar,
\nI could have written it myself.<\/p>\n
\nNotebook in hand, remembering
\nThe Latin Quarter, sixty-nine,
\nAnd a plastic bottle of wine.<\/p>\n
\nIn its familiar blue dressing-gown
\nTo the black window in front of me.<\/p>\n
\nMy bones connected to each other,
\nMy heart pounding, my nostrils open.<\/p>\n
\nThe Oxfam biological tea,
\nMakes its pleasurable night-time journey.<\/p>\n
\nTo be had with my friends and my wife,
\nThe patient lady who knows me best.<\/p>\n
\nUsed to explore the jungles of sex.
\nDawn arrives, doing her usual strip.<\/p>\n