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.