As I walked out one morning (after W H Auden)

As I walked out one morning,

 Walking cross Union Square,

The dogs lurked round the bushes

And the wind tousled my hair.


And down by the dead canalside

I heard the endless moan,

Of a distracted wandering woman,

Talking on a mobile phone.


‘Love, I’ve got to get it sorted,

Beaten into shape,

How, oh how, 

Will I ever escape?


I wrote him a list,

He put things in boxes,

He cleaned every surface,

I wound all the watches.


He watered the garden,

I read all his mail,

I baked him a cake

As large as a whale.


He swept off the doorstep,

Washed up the plates,

I hoovered the carpet,

He cleaned all the grates.


But somethings not right,

It’s the dot on the i,

It’s the clouds in the sink,

It’s the cracks in the sky.



It’s the dirty brown mark,

Where the teacup sat,

It’s the mold on the window,

The stain on the matt.


He speaks in a language,

I can’t understand,

He walks in the sea,

And I swim on the land.


He answers to no one,

He keeps his own time,

He lives with no logic 

He speaks with no rhyme.


And what is the point 

of moving today?

When our love’s in the process,

Of fading away?

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