the doomsday man

entry picture

 

the doomsday man

 

surprisingly enough

each new day finds you

sandwiched here

between Burger king

and vacant lot -

thrice times woe man with

your brimstone smile.

slow dog-paddling

against the apathetic tide

that scours

these caves of Arndale.

your hand a flush

of trump card pamphlets,

useless

in this game

of patience;

black aces of repentance

neatly sidestepped

as the shoppers gamble

on CD’s and chocolates

like there is no tomorrow,

with secret hopes that “nigh”

is more than lifetimes

and “last few days

everything must go”

is not too literal.

you glower at the bored youths

and their

see you tomorrow

taunts,

before waddling home

to yet another last supper

of your bread and Buckfast life.

because each evening

is your Friday night

and your unexpected mornings

always Mondays.

no room in this life for predictions

of Michael

Fish

or pronouncements

of the Radio Times,

and nothing in for breakfast as you’re

opti-pessimistically

dreaming down the heavens

for the doubting Thomases.

and that one day

just one day

through the Saturday morning drizzle will come tremors

off the Richter scale

and a rain of fire

to flatten their umbrellas.

you will dance

and as they run for cover

punch the air

and shout -

 

“I fucking told you so!”

eccentricityprophecyreligion

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Comments

<Deleted User> (5646)

Sat 28th Mar 2009 10:10

Hi Anthony,
I liked the lines Steve mentions but also love the lines from "through the Saturday morning drizzle will come tremors," right to the ending.

I'm sure you've realized i'm a fan of your poetry and it took me aback a little at first read because it's so different from your recent postings. I like the style of this one too.
Yet another arrow from your bow :-)

Janet.x

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Steve Regan

Thu 26th Mar 2009 13:34

Hi Anthony, nice poem that both sums up both the apathy of people and also their vacuous consumerism.

I am normally sympathetic to those who call others to coinscience and act as a sign of contradiction to comtemporary values, but I can't muster much empathy for the placard-carriers.

I thought these lines worked really well, by the way...

before waddling home

to yet another last supper

of your bread and Buckfast life

AND...

you’re

opti-pessimistically

dreaming down the heavens

for the doubting Thomases.

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