there is a derelict in the primary school play
ground/ the shiny foreheads & eyes of infants
in the sandpit cut through his clothing/ children
will be the death of him/ or music or love/ those
fearful things that threaten to make him break
down & cry hard/ he will cry like the storm
that hits the park/ water coming out of every
crevice & crack/ lead him away from the play
ground/ he has become so hard/ that he moves
like an old tree/ casts shadows on objects
below/ those children they were like fairies/
radiating from sandpit & monkey bars/ he
was innocent/ then corruption shaped him &
his skin cracked like bark/ before he saw
these children he was clambering between
weakness & superiority/ capable of crushing
out people like butts in the gutter/ the
expendable society at his fingertips/ he
flinched in the playground of his undoing/
left a trail of ash behind him/ as he rushed
from the scene/ this playground has weakened
him/ he is inferior/ the dark log/ he doesn't
want to poison this river
