TJ (17th June 1958 / England)


How come some elevate annoyance to an ‘art form’
Have got Degrees in ‘On-Goat-Getting’,
Masters in ‘Mucking People About’
And PhDs in ‘Pissing Off’ suma cum laude:
Red Brick, Ivy League, cast iron, copper-bottomed
Pains in the posterior all.

What is it makes them so
And grates them so with me?

Maybe my ‘suffering-in-silence’ threshold
Has subsided with the years and the miles
‘Til there’s no tread on my temperance tyres.
Maybe a sort of societal ‘global warming’
Has brought about a meltdown in manners:
The sea level of stupidity, senselessness and selfishness
Steadily swamping my soggy, sandbagged refuge.

Then there’s Tsunamis –
Confluences of circumstances and certain people
[you know who they are – they know who they are]…
It’s as if they’ve been biding their time
Waiting for propitious portents,
To vent their volcanic vitriols at the vulnerable.

Their waves roll & roil and break and boil
Yet in the end they must come to an end:
For every inundation a dissipation.

The barefaced lie and seek to deny:
“Never happened. Never did. Never would.”

The bullies defy and dare to justify:
“I did it – just because I could.”

Then there are those
[God knows why – who knows],
Who think they can choose to ‘take it all back’
By demanding to be forgiven
And a right to absolution
With ‘sorry’ their one-word restitution.

I may be softer in the middle these days,
But I’m not so soft in the head –
No more the silent, ‘sitting duck’
They can aim at their mirrors instead.

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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