OK after ain’t best before

“Want to talk?” they used to

ask, out of a polite 

kind of mereness: the 

mereness of calculated humble 

pi: a sky in

the pi that numbered eternally.

But talk was defo best 

before the date you let it run 

so far – this game you were

playing, this tame 

disavowing, this stretching out

like dough and dosh as

end of month behaved you 


And even when a best before

means after still

is poss, in this case less and 

less it seems that

reaching back to age-old

tribe will ever change you mind

again: far better this

grandiloquent academia which 

attracts you right

with thoughtful bright,

and minds a-flowering  

and wilds a-sowing, 

than any

hope it even 

wished to touch the skin of 

human soul.

To limit oneself to the shock

of mind, to ignore 

quite deliberately the tug of 

heart, is exactly what a best 

before would easily

have avoided,


But that best before is now

well gone, and you know it’s 

true and you knew 

the when: my future now lies in

clever words, not

murmured love nor whispered


And you did that so;

and you did that woe;

and you did for reasons only

you may ever


And you did that hard;

and you did that tough;

and the stuff you did so tough and

hard is driven snow for me,

and how: 

how wonderful it should

have been …

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