OK, our English riots subside into bad
weather
We can cope & shall, scrub it down &
build
Build up new languages & foodstuffs
Hopeful of some common feast one day
Because our needs are simple and present to
us
Engraved in the fine detail that lies around
The stuff that children play with & make
art
Dirty & noisy enough to touch us in the
rubble
Set us off onto some perpetual voyage back
Tacking through both daylight & computer
space
– inside these are infinite complexity &
joy
– like the grass & fireweed anchoring the
floodspill
Such dangers! – such strangeness in this land
Let’s laugh about this stuff & start
No comments:
Post a Comment