DAVID BOWIE

by Jake Reynolds

I.

My grandfather saw him on the docklands at four
in the morning, a flash in the waning light of a jazz bar,
a man honking his way out into fog with aplomb

II.

You saw Bowies in clothes and bone structures
reading maps on their hands
the quiet and loving people at the backs of churches

you saw them and they disappeared
you saw them for the rest of time

III.

Had I not held your hand, had I not held your hand,
had I had the world at hand, had I handed it to you

You said the world was hunky dory
You said it was a horror story

IV.

You said it was a bad dream

at four in the morning by the docklands
the stars coughed black

When you saw a Bowie, a Bowie waved back

At four in the morning by the docklands
the sky mustered up an encore

But now it’s getting on, I can’t see it coming back

( © Helen Green )

( © Helen Green )

Featured image © Jimmy King

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