A La Recherche


One Two Three Four
We shall have a Marcel War
Yes a Proust race to the finish.
Kilmainham at Dawn.
A journey to the end of Time.
Victory was my due but
I undertook in solemn oath to me  
To be a gracious victor.
Your youth spared you
From subsequent point scoring.

Any sidelong glance from your sofa
Revealed your slowly moving book mark.
Over the months we ran together
Past sharp observations and elephantine slabs
of clotted prose.

“Reader at the Bar,
Do you have a statement for the Court?”
Looking back in time, your Honour,
I confess to a steady complacency
On the evidence solely of clandestine glances
And oblique inquiries.
I made damn sure  
I’d not make the same mistake
with Tristram Shandy.
But by then it was far too late
for my dignity,
and out of breath
we crossed the line together
to wind the long case clock.

How can some one so blithe 
Contain such cunning ?

Accept this Marcel Wave.