People in the know will say.
'Now' is where it's at today.
Here and now is where it is.
And 'it' is knees of bees, the biz.

That's good advice, I'm sure of that.
And 'here' is very where I'm at.
And now is now, unless it's then.
I'll have to check my watch again.

It's 'now' alright, and here I am,
With my sandwiches, cheese and ham.
And my metal detector, finding things.
When it finds a nail it sings.

I find a lot of coins and cans,
And engine parts from cars or vans.
Nails and screws, a steel-capped shoe.
I still have hopes of finding two.

I found a can with 'oil' on it,
But none inside, or just a bit.
Broken glasses with one lens.
A watch and pirate's hook, both men's.

I write them down in my notebook.
Sometimes at home I'll have a look
At lists of things I found before,
A year or two ago, or more.

I never keep the things I find.
They stay alive within my mind.
When I read the words I've written
I see the ashtray shaped like Britain.

Alone outdoors is where I'll be.
This is where it's at for me.
Finding coins and safety pins,
And branding irons and biscuit tins.

People think I waste my days,
But they waste theirs in other ways.
They say that I should get a life,
Or failing that at least a wife.

They think there's logic to their case.
And if they say it to my face,
I'll tell them where to effing go.
When to go there they should know.