THE ERL KING

It is to you, the children carried
clapped to the parental back,
careering absently so married
through this wilderness, I speak:

I am the dangerous seducer
you were always warned about;
don’t worry then if I produce a
bag of sweets, present a doubt,

it’s just my way. The chance I offer
(get into the car) is this:
to join me on the journey of a
lifetime, no return. “Do his

advances merit any trust?” I
hear you ask. St Christopher
approves such transports, he is my
guarantee. If you prefer

we’ll only talk this time- an
introduction, if you like,
to vistas as a mountain climber
takes the summit, plants his spike

and starts again for home. This I can
give you, this and more. I know
you’ll probably refuse, and like a
nice well-brought-up infant, go

away and tell on me; however,
(since the car is moving now)
why don’t you stay awhile? You never
know just what you might allow

yourself, reminded by the senses
(feel the quickening in my thighs)
of what you can be. Confidences
such as this are rare, say I.

Now you are mine, the change of horses
made and irreversible;
the child who rides with me, of course, is
lost, elusive, terrible.