New Years day wakens to a mourning
of the two newses;
First comes the Baby first born of the New Year,
born in our city at one or another Hospital,
It’s not the birth of baby new year
top hat cane and white scarf attired,
Just a necessitous loaf of pink baby dough
needy to brood in life’s heat lamp, and tired
Next after the commercial is our first murder,
who’s a name I did not know, in a place I would not go,
And a knife or a gun on a street somewhere
so cold and dark alone,
No it’s not the murder of the inoocents,
just it’s usually an innocent been murderded
Passively every year over coffee it begins again,
the annual blinkering of horrors that walk our quotidian ways,
The getting up on cold mornings,
the coming home of dark nights,Dumb in numb ears the news of the world,
which I concede I do dismiss -
I wanna care about that -
I’m tired, tomorrow, I’ll care about that
Until it’s no longer New Year’s,
yawn four o’clock yawn news New Years day,
And I’m praying, yes praying, think praying,
cocooned in my own nappy life,
Thoughts and prayers and that pink bread dough baby –
wrap her up, love her warm,,
Safe from this January world, dark and knives and cold,
she’ll grow up, she’ll save the world
Please, maybe …
