Hard Times has carved
its lines across my face,
like ancient Martians
thru the red rock.
Laughter too has etched its grooves.
O, who’d have ever thought
my flesh would turn to stone,
my lips ledges for pidgeons to roost?
Like some colossal, stoic statue
commemorating outdated civic-virtues.
I should have a plinth
on which to stand
like some bronze Columbus
arm outstretched forever towards
some undiscovered land.
Yes I should stand in some
forgotten corner of a park
beneath the shade of mighty Moreton Figs.
A benign sentinel watching over
the wooden benches by my feet,
with their cargo of courting lovers,
innocent and sweet.
The Total war review has been delayed a week as the reverends gout is acting up.
The Reverend Hellfire is a practising Performance Poet and a pillar of his community ever since he was turned to salt.
~ by reverendhellfire on March 20, 2011.