in the tenor of JW's cream

Like Syd Barrett the poet
   returns to Cambridge his self
      of so many former shadows

mistaken for a broken word
   the shuffle of a mother's son
      Romsey Town his own and

of the manners of his
      the river slides

the swans sign
   and the punts glide
      toward restive sheets

cross glaciers of
   Frankenstein and the lit
      history of Engelsland

unlocks the docks
   to the future's drawers
      unchecked collapsed un

opened and unburied
   Malcolm's picking up on
      the viscious tab

of Vivienne now thou
   sands of light years
      since the black hole

   several decades ago’s
      fire insurance

on the ice floes
   and then--
      the wick again