an unspoken agreement
an unspoken arrangement
I have often been accused of poetry
folded + unfolded
there’s the protester, arrested for attesting
jokers throwing bacardi bottles
they really know how to throw
and the school house crumbling
and the teachers crumbling
the sailors stationed in the dark corners
of a boardgame (roll the dice, roll those dice)
here in the dirge of the voting booth
formula driven plot
reality now a show, sold out
and the Chappelle is now the stage
the legion’s all turned around
for their visa to Benidorm
dead empire – dead
revolting socialist
turned middle-aged and middle class
dead Venus – dead
Venus in retrograde – unspoken
.
Thom Boulton
.