"The seventh wave shall come to take us all."

"The seventh wave shall come to take us all."
Believing in talking about doing good,
When good is as is a brick wall.
This brick wall doesn't exist
Unsupported.
Changes in the colours of the hair
Compared to l'annee derniere.
Simple now. Only foxes and hounds to face.
Smattering of enchantments,
That's all it takes.
Confluence of wasted harmony.
Bisection of the life before.

We wait on this beach, oil bedecked,
Smiling at passing liners, not waving.
Only as sensible as our trousers.
These trousers don't collapse
When supported.
Stages in development, whilst growing.
Yesterdays coming into being.
But now, with all these cries for money to face,
Scattering of structure,
Why do we accept
Half baked excuses, insults
Of what has been done before?

Failing this we rewind
And repeat the whole damn thing
Again.

Cambridge, late spring 1991

[Looking back at the Gulf War, and the waste of young lives]