Caught in a rip

Hawaii be damned

The Elvis is in the room, not yet departed,

Prior to convictions for Elephantitis

Knee deep in bacterium infected waters

Taken for a Mornington ride.

A masquerade to conceal from spirits true form,

Identity theft being all the rage…

Given over to the pull, surrendered to its freight

As a personal carrier of sundered ego, ergo

There I go again,

Torn between panic and struggle or to go

With the flow and travel out beyond the breakers

Of my own wavelength way out the back.

Let the tidal flow do the work,

The way of least resistance as I subside to float

Above my own ambition to merely meet halfway

Forces out of my control and drift in to return

In spate.

Camus could not have known his plague would offer

A clue as to time, if not place, to erase and begin anew,

All souls, a trio of one in reach of recovered Elysium fields

To span and trundle upon.

Caution sees one day the focus of constrained energies

Of the body eclectic to surf in on itself as buoyed above

Detritus of faith out of its depth.

Take November as read to raise awareness of the power

Negative to its own recourse just as exponents shall assemble

Support on shore leave in Euclidian appraisal of search and rescue.

Westpac chopper hovers into view over this quadrant of experience

To guide rubbernecking ducks in formation askew.

Never so shallow as to wallow in the self-serving ritual perpetuated

In the belief that time’s essence can be exported en masse

Via chatrooms in full-screen dedication to being all too human bought

And sold for token indulgences.

Michael Haward