Thursday, 1 November 2018

global warning

global warning 

one day and soon the frogspawn will not arrive
in the spring of a child’s jam jar
there will be two rats in the gutter
where there used to be one
we will bump into each other running
in different directions
or we will somnambulate dazed
feeling for the Braille watermark
on the tides of our stupidity 
the slag of the old furnaces will melt again
and call down the mettle of our excuses
and find them a brittle bridge to an uncertain future

where we once grew up and went out into the world
and returned weary in age to our fireside chair 
now we hide under our bought blankets
even as the moths around the light 
  that we aver does not burn 
eat away at that pastiche blanket
to reveal a burning juggernaut bearing down
and our shadow 
pinioned against the black wall of space
sees in a flash our world burnt away
and every tombstones of remembrance
is but a puff of smoke

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