I Have Not Paid the Bill


On hand and knee one-eyeing
Keenly low the carpet plane
For vagrant Lego orphans,
Panther-like he pounces
Boulder-like he lands
Latching firmly my stiff back.

Yesterday I held him whole
One-armed: proud, invincible Patriarch.
Today I am compressed
Thudded ground-ward
Exhausted old sage at thirty-one.

He, sunburst; I, spent carbon.
He, beaming; I, stoic.
He, indomitable; I, lethargic

For I have not paid the bill.

Many too many days
Lifting receivers and pens
While my exquisite form of man
languishes, sedentary.

His mother remembers
Long-lost muscle tone
Would, then, have run him out.
But not today

For I have not paid the bill.

Race, run, tag and Vader
Jump, tackle, build and raze
Climb, slide, swim and swagger
Roll, tumble, sprint and chase

He perceives that I am Hercules
Or Thor, or Roman gladiator

But the circuit is closed
An inertial trickle
Through tired limbs,
Wrinkled spine –
Through ballast

I am neither old nor aged.

I have not paid the bill.

I am in default.
Bring me my bicycle.


About A. S. Ellis

I am always learning. Always. And that is as it should be.
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