The sun is bellicose
And ripe in its new
Violent pretence,
The sand shuffles qualms
And the sea laps
Its uneasy lies,
And here we are smiling,
Lost in bent laughter,
All chosen and certain,
It’s been one of those years.
The sun is bellicose
And ripe in its new
Violent pretence,
The sand shuffles qualms
And the sea laps
Its uneasy lies,
And here we are smiling,
Lost in bent laughter,
All chosen and certain,
It’s been one of those years.
They broke the mould,
Glued it back together
Roughly
And made a mess
So ugly and twisted,
Some started chanting
It’s name,
Some started suggesting
It should lead us
Out of the darkness
And towards salvation,
But all we could see
Were slightly cloudy skies
And a few burst balloons,
People shrugging
And litter.
They thought they knew him
And then he seeped into rivers,
Shivered haikus
Under lullaby rain,
Uttered forecasts
From wild tidal seas
And quivered
Electric;
The zeitgeist pipe dream,
The gadabout sage.
He came back
Some months later,
Outlined simplicity
And kissed all the babies,
Praised God
In third person
And created
A slideshow.
He sat on the couch
Like a brother
And sang someone else’s
Words in slow motion.
He drank luke warm tea
And praised meditation.
He was into mountaineering
And chess.
He bent the truth
Until it fit in his ruck sack
And moved round the town
Like a King,
Step by step,
Freshly threatened,
Jeopardized
And rattling.