Though we know not what they mean
Lead us up the garden path
Help us keep our fingers clean;
Having pulled the world to bits
Over whisky with a friend
I can sleep a dreamless sleep
Blithely sure it will not end.
Lorries thunder on a road,
Neighbours quarrel all the night,
Not a thought and not a qualm
Make me think I am not right.
Hence, in politics I findYour ideas just will not do,
Out of date as much as you;
My ideas are to the point,
Badly needed I may say,
Broadly-based and well-thought-out,
Obvious as is the day.
If in time they’re found to be
Sadly distant from the mark
Blame it on conspiracy
Hugging shadows in the dark.
Or again, in personal lifeKnowing what I wish to know
Once-close friends may drop like pins –
That’s their business how they go.
Health-checked and with much insurance
I’ve a sound belief which holds
Life’s a freshly laundered blanket
Free from shocks and sudden colds.
Many hours and many days
Stretch before me out of sight,
No one thinks about disasters,
Have you had one? Never? Quite!
Who, though, staring at the skyAfter dark and after noise
Would not think on that dread day
Which will undermine our poise?
When the nebulae collapse,
Heat death like a dying stain
Will, across the cosmic spaces,
Cancel out what might remain.
So an ending stalks us all;
All of us despite our views
One day will receive a call
We’re unable to refuse.
====================© December 1980