Clive

I saw the Trickster yesterday
Leaning over his cycle
So much a part of him
Like a little warrior
Socks tucked into his trousers

Pale and pursed against the cold
Getting at last the face he deserves.
I did not meet those eyes.
Emotion? I don't know
Slight annoyance, I expect

He doesn't notice me.
Once, he did,
I won't go there again.
Shan't think of him, give him
Too much power

Pedal as fast as you like
You can't escape
The Mrs Bucket wife
The too-dependent kids
Being the Boss
Baldness
Forty