061103

1am

On Bonfire night an email from Baghdad telling of
Sixteen year old GIs and war films on the hotel video.
On the Thames a huddle of cormorants
Skipped over the water in a black, lacka-
Daisical ballet, too kung-fu to be believed.
My plasterer came and cursed a traffic warden
Who dipped by on a moped, dressed out of the Matrix.
In Montevideo my wife got back at six am
Drunk but merry. Guy’s burnt on the stake one
More time; the world ticks over like quartz.