Here comes that man I love
pushing his bike
collecting rubbish
behind an old woman
all bones and angles
balancing herself up the hill
here comes the man I love
a young old man
aboard his micycle
thoughts pedalling endlessly in his head
roaring down the street
to the ocean
all plants and plans
blind to the leaky tap
mourning the plastic bag
and feral pig
not sad for the earthquake victims
unless he hears their cries
here comes the man I love
all poetry and poo
fuller of love
than resentment
wearing the smile he got from his dad
and passed on to his son
a furry man
more bird than rodent
here comes that man
bigger than an ant
smaller than a professional wrestler
content to stay there
in the middle
always ready to worship
the truly modest and the oddly bold
here comes that mouse that man that
love
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