James Methven - Precious Asses

How does it go?

To me that man is God,
More than God – God willing – ,
Who sits facing her, eyes her, ears her
.       Careless

Laughter. Seeing this, a sensual hell guts me;
Just so, for when I light on you, Nell,
There’s nothing left of my voice –
.       My poet’s words –

My practised tongue glues, my skin
Thrills with melting fire, my ears
Drown in thicked deep-sea noise, my eyes
.       Flare dark and dazzle out.

Time on your hands, Jimmy, that’s your problem:
Time’s your guilty joy, stretched idleness your life and work:
Time, that humbles kings and rubbles cities whole
.       To dust.

Precious Asses, Seren Books, 2009.