The lock on the bolt
hung like a coat
flashing its lining
of polished gold.
The weathered door was envious;
Its varnish long sapped
by the sun.
New poems have been a little scarce recently because I have been writing about my dating experiences again. I have yet to find the courage, or fictionalising voice, to share these tales with the general public. Some have said I should; others have cautioned against it. Being a geek, what I have done is turn to research.
From my local library I have borrowed dating memoirs and raunchy books about female sexuality (you know the sort that raises the librarian’s eyebrows to a quiver and the only issue dates to three years back). I’m currently reading a psychologist’s take on infidelity and the difficulties of monogamy. Plus I’ve been on something like 21 dates with 18 men, with another scheduled for 45 minutes from now. For an introvert, this has proved exhausting. Not surprisingly, I have been down with some chest infection, which is now on day 11. I’m not sure if there’s actually any real point to the whole dating enterprise. It has been said that for every 12 ‘nos’ the 13th is a ‘yes.’ I’m also still waiting for that to transpire in my career…
Today’s poem is about a polished, gold lock on a weathered door. Perhaps it’s a meditation on my exhaustion and envy of the seemingly solid. Irrespective of any psychoanalytic interpretation, I hope you enjoyed the short verse.
This weekend saw the annual extravagance of Sir Dalton DeLane’s Fundraising Gala in aid of the MTG (Moctal Time Grafting) – the known custom of sharing health selections of children within a family. MTG’s allowed for each child to experience lengthened time despite genetic predispositions towards certain organ degeneration or wastings by loaning up to older siblings the youngest in the line who have to rely on children of the next generation. In some instances where no future genes were in supply, Lord DeLane’s charity steps in.
At this gala event were Mr and Mrs Toppit of the recent scene Fictious Faustus with Mrs Toppit looking well after the birth of her latest. She wore a green-fringed, straight hung, from Villini’s new party line. DeLane added, after two hours of Villini’s couture pieces were auctioned for the cause: ‘It is always a marvel that so much good comes from so much fun.’ Decore, peacock flowers and tray-served canapés including rolled aubergines and slight blinis, came from the work of Villini’s Maison Event. An all-round stylish affair –