Len & Me in Lockdown

I fell out of love
with myself – its
easy to do – will
erodes [laziness
rages to sighs &

sleep is my task
in waking hours]
I have not done –
others have – I’ve
lost weeks to it/

My weak poems
are thrown [drink
has been my old
whore & partner]
& Leonard’s lilt –

love songs to me
[I’ll whine in time
to his sick notes]
cool my latte – to
add to my chores

as I wash up after
old Lennie Cohen
[& spectres of his
lovers – they leave
sweated bedding]

& he’ll hit a chord
as my sink drains
in northern ways –
[see vinyl spins to
gravity’s old hand]

Mr C is locked up
with me – he says
No one likes poets
as he sips a coffee
[long-cold to syrup]

& hums along with
his own voice – L P
sent – come healing
of the limb – he has
forgotten his song/