Amnesia Clouds

On fullsome stomaches, amnesia clouds descend,
With costa cups and lipsticked glass lying
Forgetfully strewn, we drift off unconsciously full,
From gifts of open hands and martyred hearts.

Smooth asphalt roads and purring engines,
Soothe us to dementia of things not yet hardly past,
We ride the breaking waves of televisual ambition,
And advertisers cast their bewitching potions.

Below all this lies grace full gifts,
But no poppy fields remember this,
Under cleansing rains from amnesia clouds,
We rush to forget today, bring on tomorrow.
Ungrateful of him, nailed hands still scarred.