At each opportunity,
You become lost in your own plain thought and fantasies;
Either listening to the melting rain outside
Or mildly planning your next murder.
You find you have to,
Before slipping back into your school-self once more,
To face the soul-destroying challenge
THERE WAS HARDLY A MOMENT OF PEACE LEFT
There was hardly a moment of peace left.
The clocks on the wall were desperately
Trying to keep time with God`s madness,
Whilst the sun was falling about the sky
And the rain kept on laughing and singing
In the streets.
The world was the shade of poppies
And we were all a little hysterical
As we saw our heads, turn into peanuts
And harps, wings and halos flying from the sky;
Until we agreed unanimously, that the world had
come to an end.
Although, in a way, it was just another beginning.
10 March 1967