On my cherished isle

of rainbows flecked with words

that were meant but not said

the loveliest in all the tides

salmon-swept and seal-circled-sealed

I nurse my wounds in

my Savlon non-Avalon

an eminence in a deepening ocean

whose delving trenches are becoming

an even greater mystery

a friendless dwindling rock 

where I can play king

so bring me my dynastic sword

forgive me 

but I can’t read the small print any more

and those untutored minstrels

of my language of 40 years ago

where are they now?

they burned brightly but briefly

fireflies those guys and girls

I half-heartedly search for them

in scant grainy footage on You Tube

like a different country and historical period

I may have met them there

but I don’t remember

the frontier of familiarity

breached and confused

in a mess of pencil jabs

and eraser rubbings

and unconscious cultural step changes

to be larger than life 

to give life up 

and live larger than that 

and what's a real sinner?

shoot to my heart in

the stupidity of dance 

that I can't resist nor

the stupidity of stupidity

I who win inconsolable

and customisable grief 

not that I needed

or lacked it or benefitted 

from its purported utilitarianism