from beyond our horizon
comes the sound
tympanic booms
savage rumbling
the faraway growl
of stomachs hungry for
power
control
more
so we fret
with brows furrowed
in cultivated concern
whilst
we mumble apologia and
with clucking tongues
serve imported tea
at finely-set tables
but that thrum
that urgent pulsation
to our distant friends
is the pounding of fists
on skins stretched taut
a percussive temblor
shaking hearts and lands
a crescendo of chaos
building
to the cymbal’s crash
to rimshot snares
to the xylophonic dance of bones
once was a time
this selfsame song
danced upon the breeze
a faint and subtle rhythm
we listened and
with pallid interest
chose to admire
the musician’s technique
rather than critique
the tune
but the cacophony spread
and others took up the noise
until the world shrieked
through those bloody measures
and millions vanished
beneath the grinding treads
of war
in time
we wrote a coda
to the obscene chorale
having learned
that for some
more
is never
enough
Discuss...