Autobiography: the first version

Once I had command
Of the language
But nothing to say.
I strung out the images along a line
Waited for a picture to develop.

This was the seventies in England.
I put on workman's overalls and sought
Refuge in DIY.
Worked up a sweat.
My whole body ached.
I went to bed early
My head filled with sawdust
And paint fumes.

Now like a magic lantern
Everywhere I turn, I project
Silhouettes in incriminating positions
But the words are stiff and elusive
Hiding under piles of litter.
I am forced to steal.
From the children.
Newspapers.
Old songs.

				Clapham, 1990

	John Rule,2004,
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