They say knowledge is power.
They say a lot of things are power.
They say it’s ‘who you know.’
Well, I know the bloke who runs the local pub,
the local bookies, the butcher’s delivery boy.
I know my mum and dad, the people I work with,
the friends I had in school.
As for knowledge, I know the exactly measurement of
light speed in metres per second. I know the Great Lakes
from west to east,
maybe east to west.
I always want to say east is left when I know it’s right.
I know that Superman helps everyone.
I know the bones in the human skull.
I know that old people from Texas eat spiders.
I know the colours of the spectrum.
I know that Richard of York gave battle in vain.
I know, I know, I know I’m rambling.
Is my knowledge power?
Do the people I know add anything meaningful to my life.
Pragmatically speaking, possibly not,
but I am not a pragmatic person.
I know that as we move through life, the end goal is not
something to strive towards at all costs.
You miss too much trying to get there and, yes,
you may be where you want to be, but what have you actually
done apart from move in one direction all your life?
It’s a cliche but stop and wee on the flowers,
cross bridges that have collapsed,
get too drunk and start a fight with your reflection.
Make some memories, something to look back on.
I don’t know much, but that I know.
My thumbs prick up just before my ears.
Eyes snap back as if my head were transparent.
I feel the words trickle down like honey
from a mouth dripping with deceit.
With perceptions still intact and hopes caked in filth,
I realised despairingly,
That he is still alive.
I sulk back to slaughtering him in my
dark unforgiving, wasteland dreams,
moist with flesh and spilled blood.