Sunday, 12 September 2010


Some people make no sense
Whilst others make little else,
And I find myself
Trying to decide
Why neither of them are particularly appealing:

The artless farting in the bath
Can’t understand elan,
Whilst the sanctimonious
Posing in the shower
Are only too aware of how powerful they look;

The amorphous mass cast
Off society’s shapes,
Just as the structured
Rupture another vein
Trying to fit civilization into their version of it;

The hollow fall
Into the shell of themselves
A moment before the solid
Fill in the blanks for them
With their never ending explanation of things,

And it’s not my job to rob
The ignorant of their calling,
Or forestall the tide
Of righteousness
That will inevitably hit from the literate,

And I’m certainly not
About to pick a side,
Or bide them lightly,
So I wish they’d hurry up
And conclude their business and be on their way.

No comments:

Post a Comment