Blood and blind faith
Were never going to be enough
On the long, harsh, decision-deferment slog;
We must have known it all along,
Carrying this indigestible truth
Silently inside every one of our
Bones, lights and souls as we
Hoped and cast charms to close out the world
With hushed fires and rough, loud whiskies.
But, oh my, too, too soon
It’s tap – tap …
And, even at this remove,
We shake and shiver
While toad-skinned smoke
Writes its glib falsehoods.
Desperation is playing
The same old, shame-old
Morphine drum that beats no retreat
Then repeat, repeat, repeats and echoes
Around history’s full compass.
Behind dirty lilac curtains
Of spinning, cowardly clouds,
Even the sun weeps.
Truth will be brought to the table,
Perhaps, another, future-distant dawn.