People get away with things
Because they make good metaphors.
Nobody wants squid ink in their cow’s milk,
Or snake bite in the community well;
The path most trodden is for chattel,
With the cud unchewed
In all four stomachs.
And the voice on the corner,
Swept up in the prevailing wind,
Surely has some sense to breathe
From her unkempt lips.
Don’t you hate it, when the umbrella
Span is nearly enough and leaves you nearly wet?
You pull it down fast, like a blind,
And single hairs get yanked in the metal hinges.
The amount of human festooned
In umbrella frames defies belief.
Plenty to restart, when we realise
The personalised clods we stand on
Owe us nothing.
That’s assuming, of course, that Elon
Finds enough introvert fuck-ups
To water carrots for the rest of their lives.
People get away with all sorts of silly things.
Shorter Poems 