By Martin Anton Smith

Tonight pals,

I bring to you,

For the express purpose of piqing your thoughts,

& as a bonus to raise the corners of at least one mouth present,

A Poem.

A Poem,

About those ‘Most Excellent Men & Their Garden Machines’ Vs….

Those dull clerk folk in grey cubicle-cladded habitats in mega cities.

Of which I even used to be one.

(Poet Clears throat – ‘ahem’ etc)

Let me begin at the middle –

exactly where I am now.

In outdoors work,

The rain brings a refrain.

But in an office –

It brings on nothing new –

Just more of the same.

Moreover

Those who plack,

Do so easily get the sack!

While those who dig,

Have it all positively rigged!

Coz you see – those clerk’s spreadsheets don’t grow on trees

Quite unlike those Gardener’s wild weeds!

And now folks for the witty rejoinder I talked of in the title.

Sometimes it’s ok to write fluffy poetry like this,

So long as it’s in the bare minority,

& B – Sides,

I know it’ll never make the ‘best of’ anyway.

And on that,

Just as it’s boring to always write fluff,

It’s just as boring to only write

Serious Intellectual tangles,

Always Basted with stripes of gloom.

Or to rephrase with the simple truth of Hard Knocks Street Lingo:

Every grumpy asshole has to be happy sometimes,

If only just to mix things up.