I to my perils
came not like A.E. Housman
“clad in armor by stars benign”
I swam to them in my PJs
hair kinked, water logged
and trouble was a bonfire.
Trouble was the thing he kept his mind on huh
Trouble was the thing he took to supermarkets
hoping This was the day
right by the spinach
he could be a true and worthy victor
‘cause his mind was in the game.
Did he want to prove himself stronger than us
the mortals who wished for everything sweet
I wished too hard for time to pass
and passing is the great gift and curse of prickly knees.
I tugged myself through marshes by tufts of leg hair
to which I gleamed a shining eye to Hope
I’d not trifle with a fleeting love
or luck money or mock fame.
Turns out every part of me is mortal fool,
and Housman, he’s under the stars
Hands behind his head, grinning
because he left out a stanza.