Trouble

This poem was performed by Robert Webb, my husband, in his documentary about TS Eliot, made for the BBC, called 'My Life In Verse'.

I’m in all kinds of trouble now.

The kind where

You wake up on a train

And everything, everything’s strange.

And where am I?

And when did the season change?

I must have been asleep.

I’m sure I must be late.

I’m in all kinds of danger -

The stranger on the platform is not a proper stranger.

You’re here with me, he says, isn’t it great?

And he’s right.

The kind where

There are too many meanings on the edges of sight

Because he might be there.

The kind where

You randomly weep.

I’m in deep

Deep hot water -

In a boiling hot geyser

In the mists

In the midst of ridiculous Icelandic snow.

You know -

You should give up the fags and eat fruit

Because life should last longer this life should last longer

If someone like him

Exists.

Everybody!

Lock away the razors and save your lovely wrists.

Someone like him exists.

I’m in every single kind of trouble now,

The kind where

A kind man could write himself a significant part.

I’m in very grave danger

Of a change of heart.