DAD

           In the mirror in the morning on the shelf
           I could see someone but it was not myself.
           I looked again and saw it was my dad,
           reminding me of certain times we had.

          Yet childhood days seem out of reach.
           Remembering salty air along the beach
           and crunching seashells as we strolled.
           It's hard to think that he grew old.

          "Your hooded eyes you got from me"
           he said, "and love of literacy".
           I want to say I'm doing fine.
           I should have said so at the time.

BANG

           The overloaded world exploded in my face
            and little parts of me were scattered over the years.
           So many things to so many people.
           Like pigeon wings the audience clapped
           to see me glitter like the other stars,
           and like Guy Fawkes
           we lost the plot.