That Bar Steward

This is on the theme of how it seems to me that I piss people off and they get angry with me, because I am not so easy to manipulate. When I don’t do as I am SUPPOSED to they imagine me thus.

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That fatherless sod again

can’t see the porpoises

here in the bay

nor what he is trying to achieve

meandering wandering

No direction

 

His job as a bar steward

no aim, no goal

a spinning coracle

no imprint, no Dover sole

 

If people will against something

he will not push

he will not fight

If their desire is against

he will follow their desire

Their will be done.

 

No points of the compass here

power presents a humble life

best not speak of

things, highfaluting

 

Forever flying kites

when there is no wind

Chinese lanterns

without any fuel

put a silencer on and

keep tight that muzzle

 

rifling the barrel of dreams

no must to ferment

a wastrel of space

and wanton of time

 

Leave him to rot

at the end of the garden

grind up his bones

mix in the guano

spread him out

out for the roses

 

His job as a bar steward

no aim, no goal

a spinning coracle

no imprint and no Dover sole