The Swiftean rage at fate’s duplicity
Joins Philip Larkin egging on with glee
As silted gutters of the mind unblock
With the use of naughty words to shock,
Like snickering lads behind the school bike shed
Where martyrs for man’s progress fought and bled;
Urging divisions in the human range
With vision from despair a fair exchange.
But human trends go round and round to set
A new ideal or character to let
All points of view progress, and then decline;
A changing kaleioscope for all time.
While the lumpen mass follow passively
Creative minds reach out to explore the
Wealth of new ideas still unrevealed,
With truth behind the relative concealed.
This World has meaning or we miss the cue,
To trivialise a life is nothing new,
And we can scarcely change reality
Unless reality is what we see.
Thus do we venture out to search for truth
Then change our thinking to a lesser proof,
Unlike those madmen who always insist
They hold a truer truth that must persist,
And cards that come from Rio where resides
A friend whose views on life with mine collides,
yet Jews have shown how easy is the switch
From victim to the persecutor’s pitch.
‘Be good sweet prince, let those who will be clever,’
Is as outdated as an ostrich feather
Yet, who can say, Millnnium ahead
That all is nonsense from the recent dead.

August 1997