MONDAY 8th JUNE 2009.

My love is spent,
Has reached its end,
Achieved intent,
Returned to whence it leapt
From in my youth
When labour used
Itself on truths
One only could suspect:

Of boys and girls,
And turning worlds,
And motors burned
To reproduce their steps.
And age’s need
To meet and breed,
And guarantee
The footfalls of the next.

So vacuum packs
The flaccid facts
And sends them back
To where they were erect;
With dreams aspired,
And seeds supplied,
And papers signed
As proof of their effect.