#743 - the precious are the enemy

 

14.i.22

743

3.14

the precious are the enemy

 

I make nothing exact

I don’t mean one thing

 

see the wings outside?

worlds raging?

fires of sun to save?

 

then picture the porcelain teacup pinkie

say umber, sienna, the whole colour chart

 

they wait upon a knock

when better to open the door

else they may well oblomov it

 

how do the precious believe we got here?

look to their accounts!

they swallow what’s offered

but take you on their diet!

 

the precious are pretending again

cast blame about

 

muses pure projection

statues to stroke until marble

 

yes I can write to a topic

even a deadline sometimes

a poem, like anything else, can be

just because we decide

 

friends!

the precious are the enemy

never look up in wonder

but always around to check

who’s looking

 

try on all the masks

they hope for ventriloquy

 

I call them ‘pretty’ and ‘nice’

they love that

they do sarcasm too

 

like anywhere else

it’s wise to ask why

 

superb, and delicate, sublime

the precious are deft

where others do

 

don’t get me wrong

some blocks are real

let’s see –  you can

knock them down, start again

think lego! think mecano!

 

in winter, make a lovely fire

out of the blocks

and then they’re gone

… go on

 

the petal falls

make that your study!

 

the precious effete

go cerulean

frig the rigging

 

they lay each

one egg a year

and hold the special ceremony

to polish like a turd

 

mysteries uncomprehending

for which no twee shall serve

 

gather the precious

and tighten the clique

they all piss out

take on a sneer

 

consider the back-up aliment

 

I take no precious prisoners

 

but rely on accidents

as much as anything

anyone else

 

big belly laugh

and ghosts dance on my grave

 

that, my friends, is why

year in, year out

you will always

find me here