Arrival

This should be the end of my protracted youth

Where the drugs don’t work and my back hurts

And here’s the truth

This should be the start of my extended middle age

The settled end of rage

And my back hurts

But this is the start of the heart

Whose beating you can't rely on

Yes this is the place we prepared for

Like it or not

As soon as your snot

Has crisped in your mother's hands

You set off for this place

Only now you realise it’s not a race

But a sudden arrival at a place

You should have seen a mile off.

News

They’re dropping a desert here those winds

and no missing planes are found,

and the kids are in the park

or so I’ve heard, but I can’t go

to hold their hands or watch them tear

the dusty ground in pinching shoes.

and I’ve stopped watching the news,

because they never mention you,

nor do they ever help me see

the bits I can’t find in my reflection

the bits like you

And now with the TV off

the kettle on for benediction

and the milk running out

I wonder if the kids can hear me shout

above their laughing friends

But I hope they can’t

because this is not the way to go

it’s not the way we do it here;

to never see things through,

So I’ll see this through with you.