And I'm already divining black swan events
and trying to get ahead of the beat
whilst the star on the spine tilts itself
mournfully towards me and says
look, the lords a leaping!
The Radio Times, two weeks thick
and the run up plotted out,
rings and lines:
watch, set the VHS or coin toss -
and that was the glow on the
coffee table, not a phone,
a resting place for brazil nut shells,
then a some time U chute
straight aimed for the
waste paper basket.
So much centring power in this tome,
and horror it once contained,
lately strewn across Youtube,
Top of the Pops Christmas Special,
and the corporation's apologia
not of but for Jimmy Saville.
Dec 29th, Jan 3rd, 5th,
the front door opens
an uncontrolled decompression
and the heating's sucked out,
roast potatoes will
just not work
in the microwave
and all the packaging I expertly saved
is out for the bin men
and what I've recognised now
as the come down smile
at 4am, arms round shoulders
but it's alright mate,
your taxi's here,
but it's not alright,
the year has begun.
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