By Damian Robin

In view, he made a start.
Filling up his cart,
He flogged his horse apart
And made a mess-age: “art.”

With few horse hairs of doubt
He fanned his ego out,
Used skills of nearly “nowt,”
Stored bugs in sauerkraut.

He keeps his heart in kind
And only shows the rind:
Dead life redesigned,
In emp’ror’s clothes, new lined.

He’s made his unknown known.
Some say, in deed, he’s grown.

 

This is part one of the short series “Three Human Types”

Click here for other poems by Damian Robin.

Related Post

‘Heritage as Hope’ and Other Poetry by Phillip W... Heritage as Hope I saw the cricket scene in evening light, In Windsor light with calm men moving through The evening air and dressed in cricket whi...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.