PARADISE OF ABYSS

opening old years

self similarity

untreated

is repeated

in a dirty

old paper rag

skin inky

and bloated with sag

full of swag

from eavesdropping ears

holding fears

the evidence said

deleted or deliberately

left in bags to lie dead

by compromised cops Met in the city.

close secret

policy briefings

disguised as drink and eat

social meetings

in elite

homes

move in and out of step

so utterly

and fluttery

her red hair

so well aware

of it's butterfly effect

sending stooges and editors' hacking

with immune transnational backing

two murdered angels silent phones

and others, famous or unknown

muckraking sad or sordid stories

and abusing soldiers shilling glories.

another summer Family dinner

butchers democracy

into a loser and winner

plutocracy

of front row millionnaires

sitting and blurring

for fat cats punting

and purring

aped by the rootless

and lootless

rioting and burning

because nothing is theirs

in this towering

new world's derivatives and shares.

wilful blindness

is a smug jest

of i confess

without punishment

for the richest

ten per cent.

wearing his blue clown pants

the red face rants

it wasn't me

i didn't do His dance

by giving my less vetted We

friend a second chance.

this quiff boss

salesman's gloss

tries to bury the pattern

of before

in after what happened

hiding more

covering it fast

in long grass.

going back is forward now

Tom exposing understanding how

the past came to this

paradise of abyss.

 Copyright Strider Marcus Jones. 27th August, 2011. All Rights Reserved.