It's been a strange week here in the UK. The pantomime that is our political system appears to be thoroughly broken. The government seems to be totally incapable of doing what they tell us we must do. Perhaps it is due to that sense of entitlement public schools appear to imbue these second raters with. Some Catalan friends of mine where saying how funny the actions of our crime minister and his troupe of clowns are. I had to reply that they do not have to live with the madness that their actions generate.
A poem about stealing Jesus' wallet. It arrived nearly fully formed.
lifting Jesus’ wallet you confessed
was easier than you ever imagined
the real mystery was locating it amid those flowing robes
you continued by describing the contents:
four crisp ten shilling notes
a religious medal of St John the Baptist
a return tram ticket to Bairro Alto
various coins of different denominations and epochs
all too perfect to be kosher
I began to wonder if He
had let you steal it so
you would have something to worry about in the night
I have been reading a novel set in Lisbon, hence the Bairro Alto reference. Lisbon has to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
I liked the idea of the thief receiving what he did not know he needed. I am not sure about the layout, the Secrets suggested a prose poem. Watch this space.
Until next time.