As Long as the World Turns

As long as the world turns

the earth will hurt

like a spot that popped

and caused an earthquake

and the people you meet

will seem defeated

all cooped up in an office block

or driving quad bikes

up and down the hall

outside my apartment.

Charlie says

it’s magnets,

but I don’t think

I believe him.

You can almost hear newspapers

drinking themselves silly

while men in hats

drive Volkswagens

or wait angrily in line

to post their parcels,

and women in short skirts

brave the weather

like they have a point to prove

and I’m at home alone

and waiting for hell

to get bored of me.

Meanwhile

the old are getting younger

and someday soon

I will be numbered among them,

because life doesn’t belong

to the young any more,

and I’m not sure they’d want it

if you offered.

That’s just the way it goes;

if you kick a dog enough,

it’ll start to growl

at everyone.

My hands are shaking,

and my feet

want to lead me

anywhere.

As long a the world turns

evil men will shake it.