My Last Ever Poems (four of them)


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He may be buffering for his art;

He may have stalled

Upon deciding when to start

He may have stopped

Who can tell?

Not I

And I am he.
The Moment Past
I would like to tell you

About a specific time

In rhyme.

A time

When

My words were sublime

But that moment

Passed

And lies

In the past

Will come back to haunt you

Taunt you

Flaunt your wares

As and when

And then

Look back

At the lack

Of anger

In Bangor

Or don’t

It’s up to you

What you a to-do.
What Shall I Wear?


What shall I wear?

Shall I wear what I wore once before?

No, it has been worn before.

It has been performed in;

It has been commented upon; and now its freshness has gone.

What shall I wear?

Pray tell.
Goodbye?

Actually, it’s more

Au revoir 

To be sure.

(And please read the line before

In an Irish accent –

Just to be sure)
G:)

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