Truth … In wine? Pull the other one. Stick it on me, babe I’ll believe it when I feel it Next you’ll be persuading me Love is blind When everyone knows However fickle It’s in the beholder’s ken The plaything of their whim Their only hope for the future Then You’ll be saying Time flies When we all know It sinks and swims Runs and stutters Can’t make its mind up Whether to be patient Or restive Anxious or unhurried And as for Life being for living Non sequiturs Don’t come better than that Its for laughing For crying But…. Above all it’s for dying For returning to the earth which spawned us For calling time on the pain of living For … And this we must remember … As the old song goes You can’t have one without the other. Sic transit gloria mundi
Disused since Golgotha Defaced by ignorance Scorned by the whole-some Earning only derisive mirth Unwelcome and Unwelcoming This un-entrancing entrance Inaccessible access Faded to a depressing Off-putting welcome As resonant of hope as Hades’ Tunnel of Love
Once undoubtedly New and hopeful Promising Portal Someone’s pride become The neighbourhood’s malediction And the future’s disillusionment.
I paused as I passed Just a glimpse in a miniscule slice of time Held in a bubble About to burst A sense of the bizarre The freaky Outré and offbeat Unreal yet lurid enough As though I’d seen what I should not see Felt what I had never felt
That entranced moment brought Mirabile dictu An exotic pain That carried with it All meaning The key to my existence The reason I was here And nowhere else Why I would live forever In the collective memory Of the universe An imprint On the Tablet of Time
I wanted you to be there Breaking the cold loch surface A glimpse of your existence That sinuous shape A wave writ large Imprinted by myth Granted to my searching eyes That fearsome snout Proud Periscope Rising from the darkness of the depths To pierce the horizon Breathing wonder Awe and grace
Such hopes and wishes Fulfilled in imagination Suffice Sustain my being When all else fails Connect my Past To my Present And thus To what yet Will be
Fatberg – Fatberg, Growing so fast; Fatberg – Fatberg, Growing so fast; Please don’t tell them where I am They’re sure to set up a webcam.
I’ve made my way along this river Accepting all from every giver Now I’m stuck – a great fat ball. Full of gunge and ten feet tall.
Mounds of wet-wipes, cooking fat. Now you know what happens to that. Rolled into one gigantic ball, Big as the goddammed Albert Hall.
They say how many of us exist In pipes and rivers in our midst. Across our fair and pleasant land Disposed of waste … Ain’t it grand!
When they’ve dispersed my fat and grease all those wet wipes, every piece Then at last I’ll meet my end But then the next one will descend
And when dissolved, where do we go? Why, into the sea then, don’t you know? That great big cess pool in the ocean, Unlikely to stir your dulled emotions.
A FATBERG is a congealed mass in a sewer system formed by the combination of non-biodegradable solid matter, such as wet wipes, and congealed grease or cooking fat. Fatbergs became a problem in the 2010s in England, because of ageing Victorian sewers and the rise in usage of disposable cloths. Wikipedia