Sunday, May 8, 2016


Living in a tent
And paying too much rent;
It’s far too hot to rain again,
So at least I’ll get a suntan.

I am an old fashioned man.
When I hear women screaming,
And children crying,
It makes me worry.
And then I remember
I live in this half hell
Of postmodern relativism,
Where any behaviour is blessed
In the name of tolerance,
And only the aged
Are not accepted.

A man’s ghostly black heart stores up follies -
Think of Gatsby, or Heathcliff, or Enjolras -
And yet the polo player always wins
In tainted times like these.
For women there’s no real choice –
To be a fool is still by far the safest ploy.

Living in a flat
And hoarding too much gold;
It’s warmer by the minute
And it’s never been so cold.

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