A Few Old Men

[Meeting Minute 1003]

a few old men
as high as kites
intoxicated by
soup and teacup
put the world to rights
and over tiffin and cake
pontificate

by all that’s holy
the world is mad
sin and religion compete
for our tatters
the merest wisps
of our flimsy
souls

a few old men
grey and wry but with
the hindsight of years
castigate futures not yet here
and beat them with the fasces
of the past

oh
how well we know
though the faculties
wane and dwindle
a passion for everything
still rages in our codgers’ hearts
shining like floodlights
wondrous to behold
as if beneath
our overalls
nothing much
has changed

fires
still burning
as yet undimmed

© BH, 2018

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Lunchtime went well, I thought. A bit lively. Not too many curses and most lost in the hubbub. Ah, but we set the record straight, what with our antique record turntables, prehistoric travels and, of course, dalliances with the conspiracy theories and religious mumbo of the day.

Why, the Navaho concept of Hozho was mentioned along with Steiner, Blavatsy and that jolly fellow, Lucifer. What a gay day!

It goes to show the oldest aphorisms still hold. Life in the old dog. Creaking gate hangs longest. Still game. We’re like Last of the Summer Wine on stilts (or steroids) and with more swearing.

The image depicts a row of figures (indeterminate age) in front of the George Washington statue in the Washington Memorial with himself leaning on the fasces. Just because I used that word, I had to confirm its wider references.

Meanwhile the world is on fire.