2011

Dark clouds hung low,
Handles fell off
Fatigued briefcases
And brogues
Were torn from their soles.

The despot bogeymen
Who once saw their faces
In cafes and palaces,
Became the dried blood graffiti
On huge fallen walls.

We held onto anger
Like loose change
And past wounds,
Taking in excuses
With saline
Through tubes.

Worry not.

In a pub somewhere now
There’s a genius lurking
With a plan
To save all of our souls.

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3 Responses to “2011”

  1. Love it! The last stanza is a zinger, and so true! Nice one, Dunstan! Happy New Year!

    My last post of the year: http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/12/31/one-day-at-a-time/

  2. Cheers Charles – enjoyed your poem too – have a great 2012

  3. I agree, that last stanza is superb. I Im sitting here just picturing it. Fantastic (and so funny!).

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