IN THE MORNING

IN THE MORNING

feeling buoyant
energized

thought myself
on my last legs

looks like
I was wrong

and so
many things to love
about a
new day
about the morning

let’s
take it
from the top

I love so
many things
in the morning

I love the smell
of Robert Duvall
telling me he loves
the smell of napalm
in the morning

alongside a river
that winds through shadow
to the dark heart of man

I love
fire and death in
my morning newspaper

nothing like
a dose of savagery and misery
with my bacon, eggs  and
pancakes
       toast and tea

but to
mellow out a little

I love my songs soft and
sentimental, expertly crooned
with Sinatra panache

catching me by surprise
as they drift across the airwaves

calming
      me down         straightening
                                 me out

making me
          comfortable, approachable

deadly in my
              sublime treachery

like Garbo, the greatest
of all double agents, quiet (and
marvellously) mad
magician
          of Allied spies

woke one morning
      concocted the most
delightfully outrageous fantasy

to deceive
    Hitler’s Reich
               lead up the garden path

do something for humanity
in the morning
             overlord of
all mornings