Bud Petal blogs here, and is also on facebook, twitter, vimeo, and instagram.


Subscribe to our newsletter

A Corn-Tassel for a Dovetail

I could write tombstones of column inches and weep over my copulas
I could have a corn-tassel for a dovetail, yeah
I could fish for compliments or be at my wits’ end
But you’ll still love me just the same

I could be a loose thread that pulls out your nerves
I could staple pine nuts into everything I touch
There could be more people that have been to Moscow than I have
But you’ll still love me just the same

I don’t want to make hash of your love

But I don’t want to hold your hand
I just want to cycle home
It gets me there before the bus or train

I don’t want you to worship the hem of my cardigan
I can gladly give a good account of myself
I don’t want you to wait and long all astir with stormy waves
I don’t want you to stand on ceremony either

I just want you to be you, heaven bent to the very brim
Our lives shouldn’t comprise of eatings of curds and whey

You’re on the ball, I’m in the wrong salad
You’re flaxen-haired, I’ve got my eyes unstuck

But I don’t want to hold your hand
I just want to cycle home
It gets me there before the bus or train

I may be beyond the pale
It might be a thrice-told tale
But the bells cough: “à bientôt”

Back to list