I tapped my ash from cigarettes smoked nervously.

Never smoke on normal days, but our world seems odd,

Slightly skewed and leaving crinkled knots

In my organs, needing ironing out with drugs.

The world was folding in for many days,

A sense of buttered hate on blackened toast,

Just something not quite right, that make us gurn

Even though we’re not quite sure what’s wrong.

But now it’s bloody obvious that we have fallen

From our garden in a paradise we’ve never known.

It’s just that we were blind before, wandering through

In blinkered ignorance, in perfect innocence.

It only takes a small event, that could be brushed

Under carpets, left unnoticed, decades in the dark.

But shine a light on breathless men and fires become

A roaring blaze, swallowing whole that sleepy world.

It starts to spread with goodness at its heart,

We watch on news and read in papers wrapped in twine

Keeping evil tied away from Marion and Malcolm

Down in number twenty-one.

But news will always reach wrong ears and rile

The anger of those bent on harm

And here they come in angry herds, baseball caps

And tins of beer held up high in queer salutes.

I tap the ash and take a breath,

Watching as they all surge past

Wondering and worrying what damage will be done.