On cue, the magpie pagoda

Mar 2007
Digital collage
114.5cm (45") x 63.5cm (25")

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I should have been a fireman
(Psychometrics said it was so)
_ _ _

This evening as I make my meal
I will drink a toast to you,
Drink to your health, hope you are well,
And life's been good to you.
Most evenings I drink this toast,
Sometimes I even drink two,
And after eating up my food
I'll drink another toast,
or two.
And should I end alcoholic
I will blame it all
on you.

What is all this activity for,
What is it meant to do -
How does my liquid good intent
In any way benefit you?
No arcane mechanism connects
Butterfly with storm -
or you.
That dullard's excuse for 'reasoning'
Well, simply it will not do!
Perchance the spirit befuddles -
Perhaps reason slews, and loosens a screw,
That's as it may be, but this I know to be true;
The fridge grows emptier, lighter
As my waistband wanders askew -
And so if perchance the spirit febuddles
I will certainly perhaps blame it all
on you!
_ _ _

Promethean conflagrations,
From crematorium to fireplace
Conflate with a douser's deluge -
I should have been a fireman,
Psychometrics said it was so.

Had I been your fireman
I'd have fought your fires for you,
Doused every unwanted blaze,
Or kindled kindly flames
To end your winter chills -
Warming your heart's cockles
With my potent chili pepper.

I ponder this as I make my evening meal
While drinking a toast to you.
I could have been,
Perhaps should have been,
Your fireman,
Making myself useful in kitchen
And who knows where,
Doing my fireman's duty;
Coddling your mushrooms,
Or quenching, quenching,
Oh over, and over again,
Quenching your burning bush!

But then again,
Let's neither of us forget,
I didn't light up your cookery book
Or thaw your frozen heart,
And your burning bush, well,
It never burned for me...

I never was your fireman -
Extinguishing infernos,
Broiling your roast -
So now all I can do
Is make this

(Words - Aug, Sept, Oct, Dec 2018, Jan 2019)