Pantoum for a Pernicious Panjandrum
Who the hell let him in the room? I mean
who the hell? A joke, a spoiler, a puffed up
spliff of a man. A bad trip, a failed fix –
a trumped up lie of the land.
Who? The hell of a joke. A spoiler. A puffed up
hot-air balloon over the prairies. Cmon,
a trumped up lie. Of all the land
this was the answer, the best we could do?
Hot-air balloons over the prairies – come on –
trailing a sky-sign could do better.
This was the answer? The best we can do is
go back to square one and start again
trailing a sky-sign ‘Could do better!’
because this ain’t gonna work I tell you.
Go back to square one. Start again.
Screw all the money. Where’s the smarts?
Because this ain’t gonna work. I tell you
they get vertigo just thinking up so high.
Screw all the money. We need smarts
and not this joker lying his way through.
They get vertigo just thinking. Up so high
it’s easy to forget what’s important here
and not. This joker? Lied his way through.
Up to us you know to set this straight.
It’s easy to forget. What’s important here
is who the hell let him in the room. I mean
it’s up to us, you know, to set this straight –
fix this failed spliff of a man, this bad trip.
Alexandra Citron was born in Washington DC and moved to the UK aged 12. An editor and publisher by day, she is a member of the Blue Side Poets, the Persisters and a Poetry School student and has been published in Myslexia and Visual Verse.