CAJOLING A FLAME

I suppose the poem this post is related to the poem I wrote about humans being cast out of the Garden of Eden. It is set the following morning.

you wake

amazed

that you had managed to sleep

after all that palaver

the fire is ash

damp grey in this drizzle

no hope of cajoling a flame

then you realise you are naked

and that it a medium sin

he wakes

and the recriminations begin

and carry on to this day

I wanted to explore what it must have felt like the morning after, and the hideous blame game that followed and still continues to echo down the years. We all deserve better.

Here is a silly little piece:

the bus driver informs me as I step aboard that he is living the dream

he pulls away singing a song that was popular some years ago

and continues after I alight

I think his dream would be my nightmare

It's a true story. It happened just like that as I was returning from Brixham. Driving a bus would not be my idea of paradise.

Here's the title song from The Decemebrists' new album. They are playing a festival in London this month. I may see you there.

Until next time.