Manifesto

Clouds skip away from the full shine of the full moon
The palace is lit up
The maestro lifts his stick
Majesty begins
The richness of kings
at least in human terms

How quick things are
Violins gone from the ballroom
Metal heartstrings crushed at the crowded dance floor bar
A slow-paced miss-matched lovers’ tryst
empties a club
A crowd vomits onto the kerb
A moist eye mirrors a fist
There are boot prints on the face of the moon

The perfect is undone
—or perhaps never was—
but culture carries on
answering the question
‘why?’ with a loose ‘because’.

So, we can say curtly:
“This age will make a mark.
Let it be light, not dark.
An artist’s calm duty
is to make clear beauty.”