Last Stand
The hyphen between
I and Thou
is our last stand
and foothold.
There’s nowhere else
to retreat to. No set answer
no fixed place. Centuries back
the desert fathers came here
and left strange word behind
among skull and thigh bone
and the odd green shoot
forced into life through ardent manuring.
I retreated onto this bare scratch
so much later, thinking to build here.
Instead, acids are at work, eager
to make yet deeper inroads.
Connections fade.
Meaning withers.
Where else in the universe
may now we place our feet ?
Rogan Wolf, 11th July 2016
Clay
Chaos at least is energy
it is release.
It charges out of its enclosure
shrieking. We should not assume
this leads only to gore
or founder,
succumbing at last
but yet again
to the Grand Inquisitor
the hedge fund director,
the luxuriant yachtsman,
tax-free,
all hidden behind the batons,
the helmets and the tear gas.
Order does not spring
from stasis, from show.
The artist does not begin
with picture complete.
Chaos is God’s clay
from which a vase may rise.
Rogan Wolf, July 14th 2016
Siren Sounds
When no one can be trusted
or believed,
when language becomes
just siren sounds
of ill intent,
the word “honour”
rises from the dust
and from the pools of blood.
An honourable fool
staggers
through the empty forum.
Rogan Wolf, July 17th 2016