I saw him first on Maundy Thursday
by the oily canal stench
he knelt down, a thorn in his side
and his eyes met mine, all faun wide

I saw him first in the orchard
a little drunk on scrumpy and on gin
he ate a windfall, swung an arm
about the horizon, took my flesh as ransom

I met him first in a quiet bar
a simple man they´d said
calm a little mate he said
you've been fucking for every reason but sex

I saw him first in darkness
his profile just roughed out
he knelt down, fastened my laces,
and I almost thought that there he wept