Wimbledon 08 Final

The Men's Final at Wimbledon surpassed even the highest expectations when the young Pretender, Rafael took the crown from five-times champion and consummate athlete Roger Federer, who I have named the Swiss Army Knife ( a blade for every occasion) or else Fed-Ex... (due to the speed of his delivery) July 7th.08.

The match of all time-
Swiss Army Knife, Fed Ex v.
Spanish raging bull.


Fed-Ex now Ex-Fed
as young pretender Nadal
reaches his nadir.

4x4=16

Young fathers heave paunches

occasionally behind the airbag,

ear slugs dug in.

I-pods bursting with pop,

with fifty favourite rock tunes,

or the ASDA collection of country music.

Baby basket first, then dogs are lifted

upon reflexive arms-precious cargo

bound for the hold.

Then there are the groceries, filling the hull.

Little blonde-licked boys in blue football strip

Slip into black and chrome S.U.V.s,

With tiny heads, they rule from on high

strapped into bucket thrones.

In four by four carriage they turn slightly to stare

through smoked glass.

Finally, they are disgorged protesting

at pre-school.

In the Bull Ring

In the Bull Ring


'...and then' you tell me,

thinking on your feet.

Sometimes you lean back lightly..

pull yourself up to your Gazelle height

or sidestep a little to focus on me.

Sometimes you thrust elegant hands,

...exquisite hands

deep into trouser pockets

( ...as I ache)

turning them, flashing them

fisted at me...

drawing them out,

plunging them in again

playfully as your head tilts

and you almost grin...

(...as i ache.)

Sometimes you raise your brows

fleetingly, fixing me with your gaze,

eyes flickering over my face

searching me for details...

( ...as I ache.)


Sometimes we stagger

in laughter together

through the Bull Ring,

aching...

desire and hysteria

filling our eyes,

blooming our cheeks

as we burst absurdities.

Or lustful we wind

animal bodies together

...aching.