Ivan Donn Carswell Poems

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The manic fires flared again today, very much the same irrational urges
blazing from the open grate, urgent fervours that belittle and berate,
ardours that depict a gross mistake and derisively debate
hereditary intelligence. While surely lacking relevance,
it has a bit of je ne sais quoi, ‘contemporaneous penchance’,
a droll predictability which, connected to mutterings, dark and murky,
and bursts of unvoiced but extreme obstinacy, has compromised a plane
where rational discourse could be revised. Well, we survived
this darker day although I guess my version is the only view recorded,
one would claim ‘distorted’ view because in truth only I reported it.
The tiles are laid, the tiles were never but, the problem is a dearth of wine
and equanimity. The day today was just another one of happenstance,
of tiles and missing tools and bloody providence,
tomorrow has a legacy of avoiding the void of misanthropy.
© I.D. Carswell

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