Elegant Chaos

Busy at home

I was happy for a while

But the joke is over

Looking down

At the carefully laid out infamy

Take a scythe, take a scythe,

To the rotting core

Of man-vegetaton

Now I sigh

At the cool cool attitude to ignorance

The look in your eyes

When you gave this to me

Just put me on my guard

In this elegant chaos

I stand to one side

Shouting "ha"

Was I forced into this?

Or was it given to me?

It's a nice idea -

As a gift

Or as something to try for a while

70 years?

It's neither one thing or the other

My big fear

Is to dig it at last

And have it taken away

It's not a problem of secrecy

I take it in my stride

Did I learn to breathe to be killed like this?

Faces to the glass

I see them televise my death

Oh, and here comes the part

Where I break down and cry.

People I see

Just remind me of mooing

Like a cow on the grass

And that's not to say

That there's anything wrong

With being a cow anyway

But people are people

With the added advantage

Of the spoken word

We're getting on fine

But I feel more of a man

When I get with the herd.