We used to meet in cafes, face to face
Now I lie resplendent on fresh linen to scroll
while Annabel is talking earnestly from France
(to me), well not really, she’s got followers
And she’s not the only one, there are women
with the same intensity and earnest pleas
wanting me to know about foundation for old
skin like mine as they rub liquid in circular motions
blinking, speaking, as if they are right here with me
in my bedroom and I’m the only thing that matters
It’s a new skill, this earnest, look at me, I’ve
Something to tell you and no you are right
I’ve never met Annabel in a café but
You get the drift and drift I do from one reel
to another, skipping over Middle Eastern Eye
with all its subjectivity, voices from both sides
carnage, each claiming their morality
The carnage in the next presenter’s skin
Is just fortunate old age and Annabel
is now at a village BBQ somewhere in
France with lambs on the spit and wait
there’s a wine fountain, all you can drink
It’s hard to think about the less fortunate
almost seems churlish to do so