Seventeen 2020.(Illustrated Poem).

I notice you are now in high heels.
Tall as a flamingo. Frightening the boys.
You zap their self confidence with a laugh.

When I was young I dressed in Winkle Pickers,
Your tongue is sharp about that.

Rimbaud and Amy Winehouse your sacred martyrs;
Keats and Paula Rego on your mind.
I meet you in the bar by the canal side,
The scent of skunk itching through your hair,
Your eyelids bluer than your pale blue eyes.

You are the future glimpsed one boozy lunchtime;
(The One Tun Googe Street nineteen sixty five.
Thorny Price, the gypsy girl, laughing at my elbow,

Spelling out my Good Luck, several decades hence).
You chide me for my 1960`s memoirs,
But praise me for my anti Brexit stance.
My past is just a reference book lobbed into the archives,
It is who I am today that interests you.

So welcome to the fray my wild godchild,
The rebels are the sane folk, don`t you know.
Bedlam has made a home in Downing Street.
Camden is reality. I greet you with a kiss.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
2nd. - 5th. - 6th. - 7th. February 2020.

12th. December 2020. - 4th. May 2021.

For Ivy, the granddaughter of Thorny Price.