#187 - two poems - a midnight writ & war and order

7.7.20

187

two poems

a midnight writ

against the ancient capital

it goes on

déjà-voodoo

they’re closing the border

things got away

ask

‘who was that masked wo/man?’

they’re punching a ball over the river

put trains planes

back in the cupboard

I keep a boat in the bath

swimming in doors

it’s all day dreaming

where’s our Henry Parkes?

hang Bolte

at least it’s not America

distances are safe

do the old pyjama shuffle

pour me another Scotch

we’re under our doonas

hearts beat as one

wheesht

nobody’s going to cough

war and order

the minute to midnight again

how many victims will it take

to get the lights out altogether?

progress is we push on the clock

fret the edge of chaos

gets you all fired up

smash the glass

and you have an emergency

don’t let the others in

then why not crush in their eyes

roll them over in it

and run a current through

?

it’s the  only way we’ll ever find out

and now for some

can’t-beat-em-join-ery –

we can make weapons too

bid up bid up

you need this stuff

because the world was done to us

we just sing along

and we were only watching when

here’s our agenda

a little something in an envelope

no one will ever see