Parlour Games

Some will clamour to decipher
these lines [in spindly scripts] –
these forgettable pantomimes
which will never play aloud to
audiences – tiring puzzlements
[not sudoku – nor auld games
without rules] – endless blanks
fired off without a shot [unless
anger is packed] – As a kid I put
match-heads into Dad’s blown
cartridges – twelve-bores – red
cases with tapped out primers
& I lit each brass-end trajectile
of packed Swan Vestas – moon-
shots defeated me then [& still
I squander my minor resources
under my greying brow – slight
choices led by hindsight’s eye]