Martha’s Son, 1991

When I was nineteen
I dreamed of Martha’s son.
I recognise him now that I see him.
I wanted to be him.
Martha’s son in the long black boots
the lanky walk
the stylish voice
the perfectly abandoned hair.
I’ll bet he plays a Rickenbacker.
At nineteen
I wanted to be him.
I could never achieve it.

Now, at twenty-five,
I dream of Martha,
who has such a son,
but do I want to be her?

What do you think?