Ant Smith

All poems

A Mighty Celebration

Last night I dreamt my lovely wife was my sister in a weird yet not a pervy way
I had no sons and yet there were lovers who got upset when I forgot their names
And all my friends they were the absent brothers who's jackets always got in the way
And parents seemed to belong to others for others always seem to look the same
In the aftermath of smashing party plates there's a crack'ed mirror's fine mosaic
Meanwhile in the garden the cats were eating dogfish while the gnomes all made a wish
With familiar faces in the papers with my sticky fingers in their eyes
I was in a bloody mess from another fine apocalyptic zombie fest
Took a sweeping broom for trace elements of elephants in the corner of the room
It was the best of times the worst of times between anticipation and decay
And it was such a mighty celebration for the very end of end of days