The King of Cornwall
Euphemia's Brother
And This - 16
alone again. 4am. (not that many in total when you add them up) - alone again at 4.05am in the kitchen probably, time at its stillest in the just just dark before dawn... shush, birdsong already, and a sun breaking, almost glimmering, beginning, heralding a sunny day ahead (i put the kettle on)
and then i'm 10 again, hours later. the sun as bright as you like, knocking at a door, is whatshisname coming out to play, i've got my best cricket bat and a new ball (and the whatstheirnames around the corner have cricket pads, and wickets, and proper wicketkeeper gloves, and bails and everything, maybe we could see what they're doing today?) - and off we went, skipping almost
look, i'm not homosexual, ok, i'm just rembering a time before girls came along, and ruined everything, ok?
(upstairs a woman sleeps) - deliciously so
all lovely languid she (i sip at a hot cup of tea, read baudelaire)
but hitting a ball for 6 on a clear summer's day, that's something else
is all i'm saying
