Lessons in Epic

You’re worried about him.

In this heat, everything moves slowly.

There should be labels for the mistakes

that piled up as he left each room.

We’d had a couple of wraps

and he just kept going on;

his face was one of them weird masks.

Are there dirty roots now

where the tongue once was?

They’re always saying

there’s nothing to do around here.

I am in love with the thought 
of my failing you.

The air is thick with sociology.

I imagine you as a kid

out of your head on Tipp-ex or

asking the court to go easy after your

half-hearted mugging 
in the park.

You’re my favourite narrative

and I want you

to be angry with me.