an old man upstairs has fits of coughing

women make his bed creak fit to bust

he's some sort of evangelical preacher

an expert on the perils of human lust

bones in bright sunshine or pouring rain

pressed down by limbs that rarely speak

contorted versions of my wide-open legs

I could make his bed wake up and creak

do my vows still apply after these years?

did I ...

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in the bathroom is an old jar of vaseline

on seeing it my cat heads for the doors

but really what else can I look forward to

now the virus has curtailed my amours?

when much younger I was an altar boy

serving old father macdonagh at the altar

did he ever give in to wayward thoughts?

did those vows of celibacy never falter?

the convent was replete with pious old nu...

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Horizons and herring made us Vikings

No estuary beyond our sixteen oars and shallow-drafts.

Silver arm-rings we wore, bound by allegiance,

Chained thralls shared our graves

Ninety miles a day in a fair wind

Sea-sick abaft oak prows and reeling sails.

Monks in towers prayed for stormy seas but

Stiff with salt it was nuns not gold we wanted

After conquest we traded ...

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