samsara

A man of unsolid muscle stands

You could call fat

But nobody would tell him that

He gies me the eye

Yatters on his epiphany about scum

The cosmic wheel turns

No mention of his blue-eyed sons

Rats without tails

That raped a wee girl

Her suicide was quick

The flowers at hedge and gate

I fucking hate

Because what I see is placatory

Thorns that should lacerate

The visual flickering comedy of candles

That remind us I’m doing alright

The valedictorian of a generation

Our fear not we’ll not be here

But nobody will notice or care.