The poverty of the light touch
I will not chew the idle fat,
yet nor will I sink my teeth much
into the more substantial,
the more circumstantial joint.
I will not overt a point of view without sufficient vetting.
I will not break the trust of a confidant.
I will not seal the fate,
with a decisive statement,
of a verbal criminal.
Nothing playful, witty or derisive,
nothing just or in jest shall pass my lips unless it must.
I will utter neither truths, nor lies.
I might say something along the lines of
“It’s just another day of the year, my dear.”
It might be perverse, or imprecise,
but it won’t be funny, or wise,
and I might talk but I will never converse.
I will make no poison, nor honey.
I will never lose much money from my purse.
No golden sunny day
will be worth less to me
than avarice or cupidity.
Never my name on the rich list
with full-fisted liquidity and capital gain,
which no fear of the rain shall have me hide.
I will not profit from pain,
yet I will surfeit neither pride nor fame,
and I will claim no salvage misplaced by the tide.
I will have nothing to waste.
I will impress no-one with my taste in music,
blaring from my car
with the wind in my hair,
no roof to put down or hood to pop-up.
I will neither cruise, stop, pick-up nor drop-off.
I will never be serviced at a pit stop.
I will not feel pity for the critter’s
no-hope last hop under full-beam glare,
and I will not care like it matters after being cut up.
I will not fail my test once, twice, thrice;
I will never have my licence torn up,
or be sent down contrite and in tatters,
or fob off a cop with unspecified bribes
as he writes up the wrecked lives
resulting from my write-off.
I will never be discontent or dissatisfied
by the meek sigh of a female “yes”.
I will never make love with a bride,
and no princess smiling sweetly
by my side will make my day.
I will not ache with desire
for the parting of thigh jaws.
My heart will not pause
at the sound of a fake,
or rake in irksome ire
over every feigned spasm.
Shame gnaws and burns a nervous fire
that no coital mistake will help me unlearn.
I will never break up and make up,
and I will burden no woman with my flaws.
No man made laws will I breach or uphold.
I will never take up a cause.
No bold steed will lead me to battle
and leave me lying in a field
for god or country.
I will not die for greed
or the lying prattle
of a false avuncular overlord
rattling his self serving war sword.
I will never be set aflame with rage
by the decision of a man in black
to blow a whistle, or not.
I will never be offended by the price of a shit haircut.
I will not quit smoking,
then start again,
then quit again.
I will never confess, nor be forgiven.
I will make no contribution.
I will not raise a child to die,
and in their eyes behold the recognition
and blame for life’s dubious propagation.
I will regret nothing
until the day I die.
I will talk with no stranger along the way.
I will always be safe,
but my life is in danger.
Anthony Emmerson
Wed 8th Apr 2009 23:00
Hi Marc,
I found this an interesting piece of work. The unusual title drew me in, and after a while I found myself listening to the credo of the non-commital and analysing each statement you make. The wish for anonymity, and what might be described as a banal existence is well stated. The last line hints at a desperation, the avoidance of any controversy - and even a striving for mediocrity. I didn't work out the "point", but still found it thought provoking.
Regards,
A.E.