I am your
one note song.
I am ugly,
Like a mole,
I try very hard to dig deep
Into the darkest recesses of your heart.
One day, I will plant a seed there,
Kick up my hind legs and drown it in mud.
A time will come
When you will wake up on a Sunday,
wander to the kitchen,
stand there a minute, blinking and thinking of eggs.
Crisp toast and runny yellow.
You will look out at the bright blue
and suddenly feel a sharp twist
in the centre of your gut.
It is not, as you would be prone to believe-
It is a funnyfeeling.
It belongs to the witchery inside your head.
A word will bubble through to the surface.
Clear, and plain.
And you’ll think,