Gavin Ewart
The Salami
The cold old men, when they
can no longer hide the salami,
can let their wits run away
and get a little bit barmy -
or, like Muggeridge, preach and pray
and act smarmy…
there isn’t much they can do,
now they’ve done with procreation -
it’s a fate waits for me and you,
as trains run into a station
(our death, of course, is a terminus too).
It’s cessation.
Listen to music and read,
enjoy the children. It’s waiting,
and patience is what we need,
we’re past the meaningful mating -
while we talk, and listen, and feed,
Time’s unabating.
Page(s) 78
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