pour it anonymous
it’s tough at the top
the lexicon is rarified
the fall precipitous
but the view has perspective
the job of the laureate is to articulate
our mumblings of outrage
to be a beacon in a rough sea
even if only to express our helplessness
with a dark light
maybe the sea
of course it’s in the movement
the incessant rounding
the pushing in and across
filling the bay with sunlight
and the seagulls lowering
delineating the wind’s tenure
the children’s meandering talk
sun in the fairness of a blue sky
as deep as the fullness of saying
high tide this one and only
tomorrow the moon
will pull a fast one
then look out
big trouble
palliative care
palliative care
in this climate emergency
the cremation of morals in
a mass culling of the masses
by the masses
leaving in tatters the remnants
of evolutionary control
first learn to fight
so that survivors can fight
for survival of the fittest
against the immortality of it all
yet someone will call it
if i can imagine it
someone will shoot the lie
but it still might be too late
wouldn’t it be nice
to have an agreed palliative program
the end will be quite a spectacle
pity to miss any of it
for it was years in the making
eh?
one suspects but one cannot know
one suspects
but one cannot know
that the tongue lashings
were a broken-hearted stone
in his gullet
a plea never issued
a pain never admitted
or articulated
they say the crack of a whip
breaks the sound barrier
ten thousand miles away
at the other side of
god only knows
why the wire was so highly strung
or why its wheals never heal
hang the whip now folded into a heart
shine it with your tears
the wheals may never heal
but they should never come off your wagon
soon
soon
after the painkillers work
and the chip on my shoulder eases
< and after coffee and cake of course >
i will cut the hedge and mow the lawn
and then
after the post work ointment works
< and after lunch of course >
i will go for my daily sea swim
anodyne ~ anodyne ~ anodyne
and then
well anything is possible
< after dinner of course >
< comes supper >
helter skelter
the snag is
i snagged my jumper
as i jumped on the
helter skelter
it was a belter
but by the bottom
all the weft was
left
undone
Writing poetry
I put it down
I had to
Buried it in the garden
But it came back to life
It is writing this now
To you
It will not take no for an answer
For the question is wrong
I tried a stake through its heart
But it wrote blood in blood
Without a fire
An extinguisher is useless
