a poem for clare

living in a labyrinth isn’t all muppets and bowie
when it’s a dark, bleak personal prison
for a monsterous chimera – so he
can’t offend the royal vision
and whilst he’s no pin-up it’s
hard to please when you’re half-friesian -
living in a labyrinth isn’t all bowie and muppets

sitting feeling gloomy, depressed and unwell
he got a visit from a man wearing hankies and bells
who said he was a squire whose team were looking for a hobby
“so come back to my village and stop all that useless sobbing
we’ll teach you all the figures, we’ll provide you with a stick
and we’ll fit you for a sash – and it isn't quite archaic”
asterion’s not as teary on his own any more
he’s a morris minotaur