They used to call Everyone’s Fool.
Well now he’s been to the other side
Of the world and back
And no-one’s fooling him
Instead of trying to fight
I ought to just give in
And let them take over my life
With all their noise and din
Above the storms of doubt and strife
Hear the small still voice within.

At the dead bits
That flake-off
The Hole

A Hole in the world that is recycled
Not wholistic but gappy

The Titans ate their children
In order to stay young.

Father, how can I speak to you
When your nose points the wrong way?

You don’t smell the darkness
Nor feel the light of day.

Madness looms
I eat myself
Destruction impels
A gloomy image of hell.


© Copyright Christopher J Hudson (2002)