Now isn’t it the case that when you’re a young man
you always wake up with a hard-on,
and if you’re in a hurry it can get in the way
between you and the sink
as you brush your teeth in the morning but –
if you are not in a hurry –
if you are a student say, of the arts perhaps,
then you might have time to reflect on the difference
between the narrow plastic shaft of the toothbrush
and your own stiff cock, thick and generous,
which you take in your other hand
and back across the landing,
over the arctic lino barefoot,
you may pad back to your bedsit bed
where the girl lies sleeping
and forget Dr Drakakis.
Go hang his tutorial on Spencer’s Faerie Queen,
for in your arms, cleaving to you, drowsy for love,
you hold an enchantress of your own.
And later, yes later, there will be time;
there will be time for study and duty
but today let it be for love and youth
to go dancing down the worried streets,
beyond mortgaged lives and market places
to city parks with wider skies. And wine. Wine aplenty,
laughter and tears, dreams and kisses then, enough for poetry.
When cherries are ripe they must be eaten.
So make no apology – sorry Dr Drakakis –
make no apology, but celebrate. Celebrate.
Consult an artist if in doubt, consult the poet.
I could not pin down Boltini for a bio, but he is a Yorkshire poet with a unique and beguiling voice. His collection Narrow Ruled Feint with Margin is available here from Otley Word Feast Press.