Story of my life (For Mike Leeman)

When the last poem I shall write
Is scrawled into the sand
Or sprayed onto a pillar of the
Underground NCP in Basingstoke
And the final memoir of a dying poet
Rages into anonymity once more.

Will you be the one eroded by the ocean,
Washed away by the power hose,
Holding my hand and tripping our way
Into the light?