There must come

a time in everybody’s life when they are hit

by the dawning realisation

that they never have been, and never will be,

the go to fantasy figure

in someone else’s dreams.

 

The dark brooding hero who pulls his off- white trilby down

over his eyes, who can blow smoke out his nose

like a fire breathing dragon pumping merrily away

as a thousand workers shovel Welsh coal into its lungs, and all the time

cause the damsel in distress to flutter her eye lids,