I am in the Pizza Express
Opposite the British Library
Writing this poem.
But where are you
As you read this poem?
And where am I
As you read this poem?
Maybe I’m in another Pizza Express
Wondering how much time has passed.
I bet it’s no longer April.
Maybe the year 2007 has left us
For the new, exciting 2008
Or the scary two tens.
Maybe the poem has made it into print
And you're sitting on a grassy slope
Wiling away a loose half hour
Before the concert commences
Or you’ve come across it on a blog
Or maybe you're reading it in its original notebook form
Which you found in a suitcase of precious things
Recovered from the tumbledown cottage
Where I spent my twilight years
With only a young and attractive, and devoted, female nurse
For company –
Where I raised many a glass of good, red wine
To the setting sun.
Or maybe I am sitting opposite you
At some other Pizza Express
As you read these lines
Raising a glass to us
And to wherever we may be
In future lines.
