The Minotaur

The mahogany table-top you

Had been the broad plank

Of my mother's heirloom sideboard-Mapped with the scars of my whole life.

That came under the hammer.

That high stool you swung that

Demented by my

Twenty minutes late for baby-minding.'Marvellous!' I shouted, 'Go on,

Smash it into kindling.

That's the stuff you're keeping out of your poems!'And later, considered and calmer,'Get that shoulder under your

And we'll be away.' Deep in the cave of your

The goblin snapped his fingers.

So what had I given him?

The bloody end of the

That unravelled your marriage,

Left your children

Like tunnels in a labyrinth.

Left your mother a dead-end,

Brought you to the horned,

Grave of your risen

And your own corpse in it.