Planting a Mouth

Sample piece from Planting a Mouth

Could be my father in a former life,
prize fighter, wrist-flasher, 'old pro',
patting the head of his opponent -
the limp body stretched across the floor.

That cat's been round the block
a few times with a costly habit
and the spoiled look of a businessman
in a suit, tie-weary, cuffs

and cuff links, they say of steeplejack
(without the scaffolding), lord of the manor
couch-dweller, glass-of-milk-for-supper,
voyeur between mutterings and serial sulks.

Our family man, nest-wrecker, who knocks
politely to be let in but doesn't spare us
the blood and swelling, punching the air,
boyish in silk shorts and dressing gown.