After the floodlight had poured me into the rain and the sound of the neighbours who were at it again
diminished,
I finished fishing around for the dog ends I'd dropped
and in the abscess of needs where the postulate reads on her own
I lit up a smoke and as the air curled about me
I knew that
not one would doubt me, no one would shout out and call me the traitor.

Was it fair wind or fate that had blown me?
too late for me now,
but once I stood proud at the prow of my ship,
the Master
who all would obey.

The story's an old one
and too often an old often told one,
one to frighten the children and
will them to sleep.

My heart isn't in it no more
I set my eyes to the tide
switch on the lamp at my side and
begin a new chapter.