My Descent [REV.]

I start my descent every Saturday into a
pit of discontent; crouched on the couch,
left ankle throbbing with Arthur Findlay’s
notes on the meaning of life - wishing to
refine my dreams just to find no reverie
in my head; my beloved cursing his luck
as a team arrives in pouring rain to fix
blocked drains outside while he wants
to watch his rugby team scoring

Deteriorating weather and aching foot-
hellish heat in moon boot - slept with a
wet sock scaring family who decreed it
illegal; a fine Halloween trick: keep feet
wet to shock all with shrivelled skin yet
I won’t do it again as it scared me too;
drain team left & my Beloved installed
in front of TV - while I’m watching an
American dancing programme

On what can be done with healthy limbs
not ensconced in demonic moon boots -
tomorrow’s Sunday, threatening another
descent into dark imprisoned discontent
of torn ligaments thus no swimming or
shopping, may my sister’s wedding on 12
December find my foot restored so I can
dress in ‘Gatsby’ style, complementing
her theme for future domestic felicity

[15 October 2014]