#164 - the statues, still as

14.6.20

164

the statues, still as

can you tell a park from a graveyard?

pageant from the page?

here’s one side of the story

each conquest, breathless, thrills still

steal a country, start a gaol

before them, we cannot have been

nor here this polity

buried upright in the open air

now proverbial

think trackless waste, think native

come into these yellow sands

and take hands

how strange these creatures here

delight and hurt not

from fine families

humble as the day is long

and driven! that’s the thing

steal a country, start a gaol

bring spraypaint, brushes, police

who pushes a broom across history’s stage?

before time was

clock kept nothing

never a wink for was or will be

chain them to a purpose

never call them slaves

but meant no harm

how spears to shore?

what was there to defend?

ages and ages till anyone noticed

now we can’t go home

all stolen

steal a country, start a gaol

keep dark of nights

a statue glimmer

brown paper bottle

mourn

and say amen

come to the end of the trees

how dark their hearts

who’s game to say?

or tell me little swallow

it’s not their fault the way they were

and will they wake?

apologize?

statues are horse high

poltergeisting

take them for a ride?

shall we?

file elsewhere under Truth

a gee up

how many died?

who’s counting?

and who asks questions like that?

statues are regular folk who made it

legend!

name the place of the poison

the rape, the ripe to

run blood cold

now their balls are bronze

who’ll look up to them?

who’ll come…

steal a country, start a gaol

stalwart they are through the seasons

stout fellows, real white men

never responsible for our actions

pocket radio to ear

tuned in for the races

statues are all back in the day

harmless, rough and upright sleepers

they give a sneer of cold command

not till the whites of their eyes

one more for the road rose to meet

freezing out here, nights re-wilding

shame job

stole everything you see around

and they’ll say there was nothing though

already shit smeared

often there isn’t a job to do

pigeons pick their colour

‘can’t take it with you’

some still say

but here’s the lazy million

they come with a host of ghosts

to worship what they’re told

see how the sun strikes

courteous!

and give you the time of day

grass grows up them

keep clipped

consider how a forest would swallow

heads down, bums up

imagine the aeons in them

aside of kings

the statues were hard workers

often righteous in their wrath

(although there are none in the Bible

still you’ll find them there)

see them now -- astute, attuned

all conquering in attitude

must admire such certainty

yet we know them gone

and on their voyage

continue vexed peregrinations

each with his different dots for the map

and so steal away

they were colouring in

statues waiting on our will

come to accuse, blame, curse

Confucius, just for instance

it’s much like this with street names

or here are George Washington’s wooden teeth

a statue takes time out

steal a country, start a gaol

who’s dying in a police cell now?

statues step out of the book

all justice in the very visage

great visionary vistas

far as the eye can

master of all survey

now you consider carefully

you have a captain cook