Like a blushing timebomb it parachutes
when its time is up. It is dying already.
Its brittle skin and ice hardened arteries
map a spiral of luminous decay.
This show of futile gallows defiance
should be a warning to all of us
and yet we praise the dissolute beauty
the sang-froid of its gaudy silk waistcoat.
This hostage to gravity has lost its grip.
After the fall, its final ignominy
is to end up as sullen pavement slush
waiting to break a pensioner’s hip.
