Witch in Water

Witch in Water

don't you think

the last two years

feels like a lifetime

two years

since the whole world

and the neighbours

all the terse TV faces

all tornado-ed upside down and inside out

warbling and waving with tongues thick with scare and slogan

so black and white, the party lines

grey shades marginalised and kicked sharply off the plank

dead into the path of a madman freight train

a glitchy clattering bullet full of 7 billion voices

all trying to be heard and served

and heroically offended

oh what a sound

if the whole planet is shouting

is there anyone left to listen?

but don’t you worry, my pernicious pretties

we are not the only ones up here on the rooftop

scrubbing the air blue from a soapbox

typing tart our replies to pointless posts by dullards

slaves to the TV news which says much more in its many gaps

hiding sacred elephants in the chasms between the tall tales

don’t settle for any less than the truth

always trust your gut but don’t let the monsters in

no matter what they promise or how easy they are to believe in

see, promises for them are like screws

if you lie down and stay quiet

then your children will inherit the salty wind

a bitter wind that scatters the short straws

the hearts and souls that care and love

now that's some fight worth fighting for

sure, you'll get written off and shunned

by algorithms and cardboard cutouts

the posts will close in and block the goals

but save a little hope, if you really need to

(although remember, hope is a beggar, Jim said so)

hold on tight to Faith

Faith, and your dignity

dignity is the one, universal right and faith is a conqueror

no, sorry Grandma, not the disease of fairytale faith

but faith in your own self, faith in what you already know is the truth

don’t you worry my loves, my pretties, we're far from finished

Act 3: ext.

Ghosts appear, moaning, around the campfire

tomorrow we might wake up

leaving the ground

finding the air like an orphan bird

nothing bad can reach us now

not razorwire fear and smothering shame

these old, grubby things

they will fade and be gone for good

once we tear it all down

and drag what hides in the dark

outside and into the sun

laughing and dancing, we circle wildly

whooping, drinking, snorting, singing, smoking and screwing

while the prison guards deflate, whistling

tiny and still shrinking, until gone in a sickly green puff

just like that witch did in water