In The Dark

The world that people in my generation,
or maybe just me,
grew up to expect and believed to be
the adult world, was not the adult world, but
a kind of 60s sophisticate place filtered through
children’s fiction, poetry, picture encyclopaedias
of the time, parents’ and relatives’ reminiscences, and
old dressing up clothes ,shoes and wine….an
impression of style
thought to be discovered and experienced in bars, nightclubs, clothes and cigarettes….and wet walks home from work
through the dusk of the fading, mysterious city streets,
sighting the first opening of the sparkling eyes of the night.

My kingdom come has not arrived,
But still I seek it constantly.
I’ve hunted at home, in Karen Millen-dress champagne
nights in Russian bars with universal fights;
I’ve sought abroad, in every airport and hotel
I stayed, and played and thought this was it,
But it was not to be
I trick myself and try to raid my own personality
But still, after each experience, each new book,
Each record, each thrilling conversation,
I’m still me, and not in that world at all.

It tantalizes on the edge of my mind, on the edge
Of my mirror, and sometimes, I’m in it
Till I speak and smash the quivering, watery
Reflection of alternative reality.

**