Self Portrait

My naked body would look worse
only if crucified on Bacon’s canvas –

Because I conspire with my reflection
to blank out the sags and stretches
which later ageing has brush-dragged

so that my dark-haired belly bloats
with the crap and oil I cannot avoid –

I then wash it down with just one more
and the wine glass is half an egg timer
of emptiness – rouged red and framed

Stephen Fry and I

I knew I was senescent
when I matched Stephen Fry,
in corduroy and moleskin,
timeless like our lies,
all hung too loose
off our post-fifty frames,
but masking quite nicely
the weight we have gained:
Our jackets flap wildly
above the cut of our jib,
a good length to hide
the pee which we drip.