11 August 2011


Numpty 8/11

Among the broken things lining the stair
I find the head of a king a hole clean through

And the sight of a jagged light casting about me
brings me to tears for whatever it is we have lost

I am a stupid man casting lines hoping some ship
will pull the continents together again

Take this broken king and peer inside
there is a garden there with a path and primroses

Each one blooming in a different color
shading the memory of every garden ever seen

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown

His smile was sideways and unruly
it only serves to weaken your reserve

The flower beds are full of broken dishes
unclean and rusty next to marigolds

Hedgehogs curl under leaves and break into lines
they follow-the-leader and do a Shakespeare rag

Here if you look at the sky through the cracked headed king
you can see the aura of the sun and the flares

You can see into the black hole at the center of it all
and the mirror beyond is just as cracked

And the gate swings outwards only and the man cannot enter
but no one can leave unless the man moves aside

I would call that fate or destiny or entrapment
but in these walls lies all broken things one needs

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