Most conversations I have
are on a bench
at the train station nearest where I live
about the birds return
or you

and we all just want to go home
but I hear the train
and I'm not sure
if I should move

so I wait for the next one
and soon a stranger sits beside me
whose clothes smell of mildew
then the birds begin to sing again
and I think they know
they have always reminded me
of you
(b.r.o.)

Next time
you find yourself
standing in line
think a little differently
step sideways
or back
and commit a very small act of rebellion

but

not when queuing
at a supermarket checkout
if your hungry

and not
whilst waiting
at passport border control
as trigger fingers may start to twitch

and it would be best
to avoid doing so altogether
at a public ******
where stepping sideways
or back
can be a risky business
even with the place to yourself

on reflection it appears
there is a time
and a place
for everything
even
very small acts of rebellion

although
it ought to be said

a rebellion
that knows no hunger

a rebellion
that challenges neither borders
or control

a rebellion
that overly concerns itself with
******* in the designated area

has probably
entirely
missed the point.

A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple’s a rose,
And the pear is, and so’s
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose—
But were always a rose.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.