politics

Stretch marks

Stretch marks on the ocean

silvery, tired

trying to remember I’m vast

sparkling, a

mother

fucker

more than, enough

can’t be contained, tamed

in a single glass

wine? whiskey? why?

I yearn somedays,

mostly Sundays

afternoons

for self-absorbed

oblivion

a sweat-beaded bottle might provide

those sweet lies

politician in a suit

sneakers and no tie

Modern. Woman.

leaning in

hi!

time to change

time’s are changing

it’s like

holding on to a boyfriend cause

he looks good from behind

only realise

that metaphor

means

he’s long gone

in my mind

can’t win

with an exit-man

start again

if you can

find enough

water in the ocean

to stretch across

exhaustion

make a new thing

never stop

aching

Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/clairevetica/stretch-marsk?si=10a516776fd04d1c9232bb1db7c76e1f&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Photo: Claire Doble
 

Intergenerational warfare

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

 

so I was thinking about

how the Millennials, Xennials, Xers

and whoever comes nexters

were fighting with the Boomers

or is that just in Australia

and I wondered if

it was a media beat-up

a political stunt

to distract

from the real issues of inequality

and then I thought

or

is it as old as time

for the younger gen

to fight

against the ancient ones

wanting to usurp and change?

The Unicorn and The Lion

Royal Coat of Arms of the United Kingdom / wikicommons

 

When I moved to London town

I saw unicorns all around

Trotting, prancing, showing off

Their silky manes, both street and posh

Amy Winehouse with her hive-horn

Too quickly turned to crown of thorn

The gorgeous, lovely and the torn

Who’d bring it on the Tube each morn

And outside London, thought I found

Unicorn habitat all around

The ancient magick of the land

Emerald glades and pebbley sand…

I didn’t spot the British Lions

Sitting noble at their pints

Wanting to protect their pride

Gath’ring power, biding time

Shaking out their mangy fur

Memories of what they were

So golden, graceful, deadly, sleek

King of the jungle is not meek!

Claws were sharpened, teeth bared

Lies were told, tempers flared

Fighting, snarls, self-righteous rage

Ugly beasts who won’t be caged

Cruel attacks from either side

Barbs that puncture both their hides

Boris, Farage, Cameron: cowards

Rich men turning lion’s gold sour

And finally the ivory spike

Overcome by fear and might

A heavy blow, ruthless, loud

And unicorn lies in a shroud –

A silly, worthless mythic creature

Dreams slashed of charm’ed future

Now I hear the lions roar

And nothing will be as before