The big issue in the follow-up - ‘did I have you or

did you have me?’ Seems there’s this thing that there’s

always someone who brings the other one off. And

there’s me been at it for thirty years and didn’t

know a thing about it. I pictured one of these flashback

things where in a dream-like image my past came forward

and I lost like 40-nil or maybe, 70-nil, or maybe….

So I told her she was the one, I couldn’t hold back,

I couldn’t function again for hours. Strangely, she didn’t

ask for how many hours or how I knew that. I was going

to say once upon a time I made love. But I didn’t.

So back here among the scents and the music and the

people and the thoughts she said to me ‘have we finished?’

Isn’t it funny how the music stops, the room goes into

a bucket. Dylan, Mitchell, Morrison, Cohen, but could

I find a rhyme? Joanne took me to the cottage lounge.

Hugged me, danced to Brown Eyed Girl, I told her I’d

like to spend my life with her. She smelled of the future

from some designer bottle, but it was the taste of my

love. ‘No chance’ was the wonderful smiled whisper.

I fell in love with that too, it’s just the way the heart runs.

I didn’t mean it either, just running the red wine haze.