Poem #41

‘In a perfect world I would be perfect, world.’


Let’s talk long-term goals,

I mean really long-term,

Once the papery child has chewed the cud

And we’ve becked our metal ravens home to brood;

Once the five-day-week is ground to crud

And my neighbours reside round my longitude.

Then what will we do?

I suggest we create and love, love and create:

Sculpt towers to tower the empire state,

Write novels to crystallise human fate,

Paint portraits no honest heart could berate;

Eat fruits fed by oblivion’s river

And thank Earth for the time that you have with her.


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