1
The child that said what he saw
at the end of the street:
“But mommy,
the Emperor  ’s bare as
Little Tommy the day he was born!” -
that child,
I’ve always wondered,
always what happened
to that child

Just recently
in my journeys
I saw
The Annals of the State (check Wikileaks)
show what happened to the boy and all


2
Straight on from the streets
the boy was sent
to the Truth Ideology School
where he spent years polishing
the Fat Butts of the Royal Horses -
but still saying what he saw
(for it seems this is a Disease of the Brain,
a condition known plain as:
Speaking the Truth);
and so he was delivered then the State Cure:
and now, it seems, he lives in Cell131313
(serves him right for catching the disease;
sure, the sins of the fathers are visited on the kids)
teeth rotten and knees falling
the little boy who spoke the Truth -
now unknown, hidden and obscure

And his Ma was sent to
Patriot Mother’s Re-Education Program Institute
where even centuries after
she’s yet to complete her first year;
And his Dad to Desert-You-Never-Come-Back-From
and little Tommy was sent to
Grab-Them-Young School

And every school child
in The Emperor’s Domains is taught
The Upright Moral of the Story:
Don’t tell Lies –
For the Truth is the Lie


3
Remember then, for your own good,
O ye children
of all nations and clime:
*It was the tailors
the smooth-talkers
the unjust, the wrong-doers
the charlatans -
It’s them that got away

1
Sarah and Tim are talking
at the warehouse where they work
“Our new manager’s good –
don’t you think? Bet he’d give me a day off”

“Bet your bottom,” says Sarah


2
And Tim hangs
upside down on the beam
across the ceiling
and the Manager asks:
“Tim, what are you doing?”

“I’m a light bulb,” says Tim
“and I light up
the warehouse”

“You need a break, I think”
says the Manager
“Have the rest of the day off paid;
come back tomorrow”

3
Tim smiles and he goes
and Sarah follows out
And the Manger, puzzled, asks:
“Sarah – where are you going?”

“Oh,” says Sarah,
*“It’s so darned dark in here
since the light is off;
I can’t work
till the light comes back tomorrow”

Out of two hundred men who went over the top
Only a handful came back
Jim survived, he made it home
Lucky Jim for that

He stood and watched me for a minute
As I struggled to master my task
'You'll get the hang on it'
Was his gruff but engaging remark

'Once you get over eighty,
Anything can happen you know
This time next year
I might not be here
Anytime I could go'

Within the twelve month he passed away
How right he proved to be
And since that time now and then
His words come back to me

Oh that contented soul to be
Who finds in all things harmony
Who weaves their cloth on nature's loom
And sees no cause to worry

Who shines with aura ever bright
Like lustrous moon on misty night
A smile to brighten any room
With charismatic light

Skillfully to seize the day
And cast all lowly thoughts away
So mind and body stay in tune
And happiness holds sway

three specialists travel in their car
down Victoria, Australia
through rural Mildura
and they see fields
and a black cow standing in one

“Cows in Mildura,”
announces the astronomer
“are black”

“Tchk! Tchk!” says the logician
(Eminent Professor Emeritus)
“Some cows in Mildura are black”

“Let’s express it with precision,”
says the Mathematician
*“It is exact to say
there is at least one field
in Mildura
with at least one cow
of which at least one side is black”