An iron chain on the trawler, Plymouth harbour
heavy, rustedcatches my attention

Your arms round my neck and shoulders
Cold claw in my stomach

You remind me of the remand home
Babies with steel fists
keep a watchout for fools

Remember when we studied ourselves
Knew the machine
its tricks and combinations
Was all that a waste of time?
to just drop into glamour
bait and be baited

I'm free to drive home

~ ~ ~

come together

everyone else
I normally manage to shake off
somewhere in between the heights
and the low parts
with contradictions and variance
suitably unlabelled

It's not really meant to drive away
but after a season I glance back
and must conclude
it looks so

I'll stick to one approach
forge a career out of it

~ ~ ~