Veering to the Right

 

riding the wave of anxiety

from where I cautiously swim

almost submerged by circumstance

I see lines of marching men

 

from all the four horizons they come

beating drums, goose-stepping in tune

{breaststroke, butterfly, backstroke

breaststroke, butterfly, backstroke}

 

and still they keep on shoving

mermaids out of the way

there is no space for frivolity

in a world where everything is for sale

 

there they are marching again

on the crest of our fears

stomping all over our freedoms

{no freestyle, no freestyle, no freestyle

a patriots Australian crawl}

 

and secretly I’m frightened that

there is no place for me at all

 

 

Copyright May 2017

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Fighting Fear

 

something inside me relaxes

enough to let the bats unfold

preternatural claws against my chest

ripping flesh and bone to shreds

 

I hang on to my dignity long enough

to seek the comfort of solitude

the moon reflects benevolence upon my bed

the bats refold their wings and sigh

 

they will only fly in dreams tonight

gripping tight to my unwieldy thoughts

feeding forcibly on fractured memories

tearing fears into small undigested morsels

 

 

Copyright March 2017

 

Goodnight

It’s quiet tonight

as I sit in my armchair and write

behind me the door to the garden is open

but I do not sneak a look

would that I had closed the door

and pulled the curtains across earlier

for then I could pretend

that the zombies ambling along from side to side

were in someone else’s garden

and not waiting to suck my brains

when I close up for the night

 

 

Copyright October 2016