CAVE
by the time
news of the election
happened to reach me
it had aged, ten
twenty years
and I had
aged a thousand
so sarcastic thanks
due to Albert
opening this can of worms
despite the shock of relativity
the news
was soggy with conjecture
about coalition
of the centre
vaunted talk too of
government
of national unity and
me so far
out the frame, swinging
pitching
in left field
not boding well
my initial gut reaction, by
the time
I’d sussed the story
seemed
all talk of rebirth, revision,
repentance and renewal
at every
little individual, and
of course, the national level,
was perhaps
a tad
too hopful, insanely premature
but this analysis killed
left me crippled, ancient
as old
as Plato
him stuck way back when
still dreaming of his
Republic of philosophy, hierarchy,
meritocracy
and me
totally
abstractrd
out of the picture
still hanging around,
for better or forcworse
somewhere
near the backwall of
his absurdly
over-estimated cave
***
poems 2 die for 