Posted in Lies


Benjamin Disraeli
Prime Minister to Queen Victoria
forgotten as a politician
forever remembered in quotation
defining the allotropes of truth : “ Lies, damned lies and statistics.”

Queen Victoria
sturdy, stern, severe, steadfastly Victorian
the age, much less so.
Promiscuity knew the drill – a gentleman at court
and after hours…. no questions asked.
Except the premier
who pondered the wisdom of adultery – the disproportion of risk to reward
with a less renowned quote
“the expense was damnable, the position ridiculous and the pleasure fleeting.”

Gratification rouses recklessness.
Scent whispers
opportunity murmurs
hormones shout
men listen with pounding attention. Consequences mute.

Rules of transaction always contain exception
with sexuality women display far greater sense
visits to the Third World
and tumbling into commitment
with lovers who are peasants. Literally.

“Peasant.” Triggered full feminist artillery
white middle-class male imposing prejudice.
Had love ever been known?
To really be in love?
A dozen years of monogamy didn’t count.

Ears flinch.
Tongue chastised.
Time watches.
Brief first class stateroom. Then lifeboats.

Mars and Venus
men hunt pleasure and promise tickets
women seek beauty and perceive enlightenment.
Deception and delusion. Damned lies and statistics.



Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.

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