Raining in Paris

raining in Paris, Prague, London and Rome,
whitish fog builds like a ghost round the Eiffel Tower,
mirror-coated skyscrapers, every ancient bower—
earth against earth, chrome against chrome.
the storm circles and circles darkly every home,
cold rain on the glass as I stand in the steamy shower
or gargle in the bath at the appointed hour;
nourish the flowers, the soil and loam.
raining in Mumbai, Cairo, Timbuktu,
raining in Derby, Leicester, Cleethorpes, Glasgow.
guard the canned food, hush, turn on the radio.
it rains. I weep, wearing pink pointe shoes.
place your ear against the soaked and muddy ground:
the sense must always be an echo to the sound.

Shopping List

Milk (whole)
Tuna in brine
Pack of beef mince
4x raspberry trifles (the multipack, not individual ones)
Box of tea, whatever’s on offer
Get those beers John likes
8 packs of ibuprofen/paracetamol
(Will probably have to buy from several shops)
As much codeine as I can get my hands on from Brian
Ground coffee
Frozen lasagne
Snow on a frozen over lake
The ground that rolls on for ever and ever
The servant croaking as he endlessly cranks the wheel
This black-and-white TV world
(Flattened and rinsed out with colour and form
As big as a spot of dust
And as little as those mountains ranged
Cardboard cut-outs crowning the edge)
This tissue-paper earth, as we sing drinking songs—
Forgive me: I’ve wittered on too long.