We sew rainbows on peacocks and then call them hens which is
good for the writers, pen makers, the papers and not too bad for the peacocks either.
I’d rather be a father to the atoms in an atom bomb.
This is the age when age is everything and
everything’s about the age,
like the ice age was all about the ice
the stone age was all about..
you getting the drift?
I’m trying to sew these rainbows on
a twenty six mile marathon,
but there is no point to this or
did you miss the point?
I don’t know if pyramids go through the eye of a needle
but do camels?
and watching the apocalypse on Netflix is no fix at all,
the peacocks do not call to me, there’s
no new tricks
just the usual sleight of land
but on the other hand
there’s nothing new in that.
I think I’ll take up croquet,
anything to get away
just put on my pyjamas
and close my eyes
© 2017, John Smallshaw.