ONE YEAR IN AND IMMA TALKIN TO CLIFFS

Stand up, go on 

ya little bollix

says The Cliff

sure look at me

houlding tough

in all weathers

all how-many-ages

not even the heart 

with all its grief

the heart of flesh

with all its losses

knows how 

long are the millions

how long are

the millions of longings

No-one knows

the god of all eyes

can barely encompass it

the god of all time

is half fed up with it

the god of all drowned 

has a drain in his head from it

& you 

you by the cliff face

ya shivering shit

ya little wren

only expected to wobble

a bit now and then

for 

three score & ten.