At the concert in the Apple Market,
When you were still David Jones,
Your south London twang,
Accompanied the many undulations
Of time.

Your wild androgyny
Mirrored the mirror
Of myself

David Bowie, name bought off the shelf,
Skimmed the water
Of childhood,
Like a dog shakes off rain,
You accelerated — changeling

You lit up, spot-lighted,
An iridescence of sound
Ziggy!
Your songs were the water
I needed.
Your terse verse
Spread underground:
Watering imaginations,
Forming rainbows 
above Baker Street, London town,
during the long hot summer of 1976

we thought it would never end
but you knew differently
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Before the silver cord was broken
Before the golden bowl was crushed.

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