descent and decay

iron blanket drawn

over graveyards shoulder,

time grizzles in the wind,

on haunches leaving flowers

new ones that repair the vase

to a certain brightness,

tattooed hand

pores darkened by labor

fingers stained by cigarette,

a tear would not fall

enough had shown at the time,

those fingers took a kiss

pressed it to headstone

no inhibition

despite the rumors that had become

a fiction contorted on nights breath,

driven within hours

in a landscape changing

mesh of community falling

into disrepair,

his longing had seen violence

memory carried weapons

and he could only think of

retribution,

slate wiped of all marks

that defined a normal history,

he still had a key

that room there own,

now cleansed and let to someone

else,

he visited sometimes

walking amongst others possessions

picturing his own

and her blood

scarring the walls

 

boxcar funeral parlor

the prairie became an extension of the city

thanks to the railroad

so finding solitude was easy,

in the yard steaming hot

through haze cyclops diesels

rumbled threatening inert freight,

a man nimble over tracks

knew passage between the lines

many years spent here

living on the perimeter,

where boxcars became brittle and fell apart,

it was here he served god

and those others displaced,

god was an argument for cheap whiskey

and sorry nights,

the others came to him

as in his throat he had words and lyrics

written in his own hand,

his boxcar a place for the dead

those whose limbs had ceased in all exhaustion,

he spoke sermon gave a sense of rapture

then would take each body out

to that solitude for burial,

wind caught and burned faces

heaven a casual component,

the sky a vault

and mountain halls echoing nature,

love had evaded him for so long,

passion cast upon the train

making right for those about,

even in slumber he did not crave

the early life that was chest deep in darkness,

fellow man and a swirl of small favors

cleansed his sanity,

he labored as a persistent mouse

to save the dead from further disgrace,

and hoped his dust would find

the same

 

Margaret Thatcher

In death she divides us again , but more importantly the fissures that have chronically remained since have reopened her policies under scrutiny, i saw the fall of Unions the propelling into a war that was only for populism, industry sold and collapsed Mines, Docks every sector experienced the force of her nature unbending unwilling , destroying the mines destroyed community and society fragmented drifters pushed into other towns having to learn new skills to survive for less pay while on the other hand the rich never had it so good bonuses and million pound paychecks, business leaders enjoying the might of unions collapse so they could apply work conditions without challenge, i would not celebrate anyone’s death but her legacy is a poor one that shows so truly now, foreign policy Pinochet and Khmer Rouge she made allies and friends of leaders would not tolerate today but unopposed or weakly so she ploughed on.

That is all i am going to say as i needed to say it i saw poverty the collapse of a lot of industry at her hands but what is done should not be perpetuated the Government today should listen us the 99% we work and toil to earn minimum wage so that million £ bonuses can be paid, time to change think hard about the countries future and make a wise choice your life depends on it