Friday, April 2, 2010

Now That I'm One-and-Forty

In keeping with the A.E. Housman theme I seem to have established between this week and last, I have updated "When I was One-and-Twenty," our founder's signature poem, for the present age.

I hope you don't mind.


Now That I’m One-And-Forty


Now that I’m one-and-forty,
I look at love this way:
As t-shirts, socks, and underwear
No longer white but gray;

I look at life like wine
Glistening in my glass,
Turning to vinegar.
Things happen now so fast.

When I was one-and-twenty,
I studied you one night;
I had a test to pass,
But failure seemed all right.

Some light fell on your shoulder,
Some fell on your cock,
Most fell on the floor.
The light came from a clock.

I watched the numbers change
From twenty-one to two;
I watched until two-forty-one,
Then fell asleep. Like you.





5 comments:

Eshuneutics said...

A bit more explicit that dear old Housman, Eric, but neat pastiche. Bravo. Hope you had a fine Easter.

Shropshirelad said...

Hi Eshu!

Thanks. I recently re-read The Invention of Love and I have been feeling very Housmany lately. It is a lovely play. I saw it twice here in New York.

I think Housman comes off fairly well in it, really. (Better than Wilde in some ways, just between you and me...)

Eshuneutics said...

Thought of you, saw a book of poetry by Housman with picture of Shropshire in the past--ah, sweet nostalgia!

Eshuneutics said...

You haven't posted for a long time: perhaps you are having a break (as I did). Hope this is the reason and you are okay. Kind wishes.

Eshuneutics said...

Welcome back from your holiday in the Orient.