may 9th

a poem about a chance encounter



walking along the thames pathway
on one of the bits thats more like a dingy alley
shielded from the bright spring day
i chanced upon a d list celebrity
a mediocre comic actor leaning on a wall
- and i know this is the point where i point how tall
he looked compared to a few inches on my tv
or some other obvious inanity -
i fought the temptation
to engage him in conversation
where in joint speculation
through my revalation
he'd reach a realisation
that he used to be almost ok
in that thing he did back in the day
but his work since then to date
has been little more than fourth rate
he was leaning looking bored with a film crew pointed at him
like a cross between a stalker and a mis-equipped assassin
and the three of them were waiting for some moments at a time
that were consecutively devoid of passers by
to have the chance to deliver what i suspect was just one line
and never one to miss the chance to make a statement - i
decided i could make him understand where his career
went wrong without him needing to want to hear
so i further delayed that moment when he could finally go
by making sure my walking by was
really
painfully
slow