niveous haze

niveous haze

niveous mist wisps and winds through steeples tall, along
cobbles flat and up your trouser leg. women cower on buses

                      gloves and bags. Michelin kids slip and slide
wide-eyed tasting skies of their failing flaying youth

the haves shop until they drop and have-nots drop at the shop
collecting alms doing no harm, but spoiling foiling illusions of
‘good tidings for you and your kin’

street windows, flat screens, screaming wars, on the hour every
hour, Aleppo letting go

downloaded and freeloaded an aroma kicks the coma. Coffee to
see, to set free, my tunes, iTunes, oh it’s such A Beautiful Life.

a cross on a spire, a flurry, a story, an electric fire. Santa calls,
snow falls, the barista waits, Jesus weeps

daylight sleeps, darkness creeps, chills spill, dammit this planet
stops a spinning, no one’s winning, no one notices

Christmas          effortless meaningless, unless of course your horse,
your saviour entered this tragically, magically juxtaposed hard-
nosed space & place

to rescue men [and possibly women too] from their sorrowful
pitiful sinful ways

              this Yuletide faze, this yearly craze,
                                it’s rather a random kingdom
                                                               niveous haze

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *