John-Ward Leighton

THE MIDNIGHT POEM

Photo ©Copyright by John-Ward Leighton: The Midnight Poem
Photo ©Copyright by John-Ward Leighton
Sitting in my gaunch
my mind turns to raunch.
There
I’ve made a new word
and I don’t care
because there is no there
there.

The singer Ho flaunts
her ass
in
particularly
erotic dance
giving the impression
that any man has a chance.

But we know
this ain’t true
it’s only your mind
that’s gonna get
a screw

That the trouble
with these much music birds
jiggling their butts and boobs
is more important
than the music or the words.

Then there are the hip hop guys
with their cockeyed hats
and baggy pants and dead eyes
that they end up on the wrong
end of gunfire is no real surprise.

The latest Ho on wheels,
in high heeled underwear
with the lacquered lips
and drug shiny eyes
and in bed squeals,
can no longer see her children
but is that a surprise?

But hey
she has the hit CD of the year
and if her habits don’t make her dead
the latest video rock and roll star
will soon have her in bed.

The advance of porn
into everything popular
and the lives of whores and brain dead bores
is this the death of our culture?

Thieves and tyrants
occupy
the public eye
and come before the political docket
to put their hands
in the public’s pocket.

Then, to advance the share price,
can the workers
and put them in the unemployed ranks
while they go laughing to the banks.

Young men give their lives
in the current wars that are
all about oil and their leaders’
lies.

In the street
many veterans do I meet
without a roof over their heads
hungry, sick and dirty
with a “clawed back” pension
and no price for a bed.

Inside my walls
but never distant from the sirens cry.
Will they be in time
or will another poor person die?

In one of the most beautiful places
in the world with so much promise
why are people on the street
like so much dog shit
and vomit?

Don’t ask me for solutions
in a world where so much of right is wrong
I’m just going to sit here
and watch the Ho
dance and sing her strangely erotic song.