1 July 2012
I wonder could I fit all my worries
In a sink.
The kind that's big and square and white
The likes we have out back
To bed the camomile.
Worries for society's decline,
I'm sure a few euro would fit in there
And a gun and some cuffs
And a big old block of ice
And perhaps a picture of Kim Kardashian
I heard they think she's to blame.
I doubt it.
Worries for my faith's decline,
Perhaps a Chinese flag
For an imprisoned congregation,
A bomb to show our Holy Wars,
Waged when we should unite
Against a slipping world view.
Worries for my family,
Hospital bracelets,
Syringes,
Cigarettes,
And mind game magazines.
A cake too, for cholesterol,
Exam papers, money
It's all down to money in the end.
At least I don't have to fit Death in there
He doesn't bother me,
Rather he's an interesting fellow
To talk to, not scary in the least.
I only ask all this,
Though a silly question it seems,
Because if I could I'd like to pull the plug
And see them go rushing down the drain
Never seen again.
A Sinking Feeling • Opuss № I