The self-service machine

The Self-Service Machine

The self-service machine is currently

out of order

The story of my life

Can I dote on the young ones

No other father would demonstrate

such love for his perennial seed

Remembering the day I cried

I am alive

And death was only falling away

with pity

Everyone has their turn

But not everyone knows why

It did not have anything to

do with me

It still was an error

We apologise for any inconvenience

Beautiful

Beautiful

Could this be the beginning of something

beautiful

Where the moon charts motionless the seas

eternal rhythms

And love is a ninety-nine year lease

Moreover remove the possibility

And we are at life's terminus

Where the church spire overseas

dark shires

People from which came people

are shoved to death

I would rather think of a downpour

unspoilt by determination

Or the grace of her hands clasped in prayer

The possibility of life enduring

Even flowers received flourish in

the smile of my love

Yes life is beautiful

I have to thank her for making me

weigh up the situation

Night Train

Night Train

I do not remember any lover

with fondness

Except the lover on the

night train

She would be

My time to remember

Now I have heart

And decent bed linen

I do not remember all the boys

Just classic cinema

Where boy meets girl

Who had no memory of the

night train

I do have a love

As divine as the usual

domestic bliss

With a child's enormous smile

And a fondness for the night train