Blues One

oh i’m just an observer and i’ll tell all i can
my course is just; you’ve sussed it’s not important who i am
for i am purely ornamental as the wise among you know
but i once had a daydream & i’ve sketched it out below…

it started when we turned our papers into magazines,
glossy-edged with papercuts and torn up polythesene
which demonstrated quite succinctly that we humans look distincly
old & crinkly next to images of what we might have been

these ambitions we’d been chasing for a long long time,
leave a brother, chase a lover and be hustled back in line
while other people stand on mountains, coat-tails flaring out
narrowly assessing what this lesson’s all about

fantasies that we had been pursuing all our life
caught us up and told us that the quest stands on a knife
but the reality we’d call it floats beneath a different moon
the quest is more more likely balancing upon a spoon

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as science improves & time it moves, we’re dispensing with guns
we make our laws and do our chores and fight our wars with puns
and when the puns become to bitter then we scatter them like litter
and they glitter in the darkness while we turn out backs and run

far away to the arms of whoever’ll hold us tight
who will kiss us in the britches and will cuddle us at night
while travellers lseep on shipwrecked shoals a thousand miles wide
caught between their beauty and the bitterness inside.



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