Monday 21 November 2011

Pure Invention



After the last flood, you promised

No more Arks;

Exploring lost countries

And finding out why;

Defying the past

In planes that fly backwards.



No more basking with sharks

On a submarine sundeck;

Or plumbing new depths

With trips to Atlantis.



If you can’t change the world,

Don’t try.

Do a crossword instead.

People who lead

Dull lives

Still make it to the grave.



Reinventing fire might sound bright,

But it could make things worse.



Most dreams,

Like postcards from strangers you ought to know,

Remain on the mantelpiece.

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