Nigel was right of course
straight out of the other side 
walking across the zebra lane
on that promenade 
the treachery of Facebook.

The Green Man is sleeping until winter 
but spring rain will awaken him next year,
haunted by the repetition

it was a day like this 
when she was a tree 
and he wore her like a cloak
When she was smoke 
clinging to a death bed, 
no wasted anger arranged 
facts on every plate.

Nigel was right of course.

The naked police chief
put his face in the book
and all the world threw
eggs and tomatoes.

Follow the science into the zoom world 
of safety and technology 
or follow the anarchic rebels 
with a cause to rage in maddening crowd
Pouting words to the Black Dahlia
Weaving through the leaves.