with the la la's and the levellers you have a quartet, akin to: two people and two abstracts of the people mentioned; why write love poetry for love? why not write love poetry to make actual love unattainable? just wondering, because that's what you're doing!

well there's me walking into
the woods, muddying my shoes,
taking mud with lace onto pavements
against what my mother asking me
to not do: i love my cat, look
at my autistic bonsai tiger, look
at him, cleaning himself, ah,
cutie pie budgie, i'm having a beer
and i'm saying:
i was the drummer on billy joel's
we didn't start the fire* song...
huh? it's friday, why am i not
in the secular church of crucifix and disco ball
getting groovy like once repentant?
no seriously, i'm surprised it's friday:
here's me air-drumming a thump
to the silences ha ha: you're here too?
but then trying to remember a song,
a journalist writing out all-purpose-defence-dialectics
spotted that i too came across the levellers,
so before you craze and criticise...
i loved the song carry me;
and concerning the muddied shoes,
where you the man in sunset woods,
listening to the wake of owls and the rasp of crows?
where you me sitting on a stump of wood,
with crows and owls, exhausted sitting on
a stump of wood with beer and cigarette in hand...
where you me? where you me listening
to the synchronised claim of the darkened woods
with me and owls and crows? no, you weren't:
all **** free through to the future of me tangoing
with you where civilisation matters.