Hell To Pay


Did we really surrender

The rock, our roots,

The purple passions

That meant so much

Too soon?

Did we come down from the trees,

Leave the mesmeric cave paintings

To race into the ether future

Too quickly?

Did we  first desert,

Then crucify, those that

Had been our magnificent heroes:

The blacks, the blues, the pinks,

The mean and moody intransigents,

Those that were bitter and

Those that were mild

To comfortably readily?

Did we stop yelling questions, stop

Believing that we would live forever,

Lower the rebel colours,

The volume-threshold levels

Too rapidly?

Did we, worst of all:

Give up resistance,

Shape our lips, teeth and tongues

Around the well-paid gag-bit

Too comfortably hastily?

Did none of us,

Even for the tiniest

Fraction of a moment,

Realise there would be

Hell To Pay ?