10/11 January 2008
pm
The twenty four hour marathon will, in a moment
be gone, an obligatory iron ore imposition
in twenty or about itching minutes of cacti time
the kick off of a new egging on exploratory game
then another will put in the exacerbating key
to rewire up the immoral, unwelcome ignition
bringing a break-up earth again to the brutal onslaught
of colour hate, raw lying, machete cut and maim
am
The orbit goes on again, in infinity to where
content with its morning hot tiger tea and lemon cake
with no thought of a decent half time change to
wet, wasp torn, muddy strip when cheering a coco crunching break
asking an honest man, tea house woman or wandering youth
what might they aspire to; new water, cheap rice
home comfort without handcuffing terror, a creeping peace;
but that, one must for the time being, keep on mammoth frozen ice
