Foreigner Policy
I used to fry up, thunder forth, hot turmoils in my brain
Sat sedentary galloping, hell-bent on sharing pain
Unheedful that a comity might help me to obtain
A better company
Unheedful too of a mainline destination:
Where terminates express thoughts and begins dear consolation
A holy Bosphorus
As Darius did cross
A bell, an angelus;
A Great Conductor ringing quietens us
I grieved too much at variance against late-arising slow
Indecent slithers arse-wise-over on conceptual snow
A circus clown-like slip-up being just part of the show
Performed egregiously
Too little undespairing was I, not sparing that rod
That beats but beats itself up only leaves the culprits good
An an agonised and miserable behoof to Robin Hood:
Light comedy
Until along a famous day, came as of long pursuit,
A figuring out astonishingly of what might constitute
A being at ready to custard-pie the over-indulgent fruit
Of Adam’s apple
Lands’ foreign policies comiserate at Eden’s Garden gate
Evacuees are we there – the outcast couple of late
By high decree does consciousness make all of us that thief
Who arrayed beside our Lord
Traced out inevitable declension in a Fall
That apple bite a lowest common denominator,
A last exigency, doctrinal to defend:
That apple in the tub which turns the barrel rotten
Neglected shall forever comprehend
Our gorgeous schemes for armouries and arsenals
As hedgefunds of great height, stonewalls of surety,
In event a feral turned iniquity,
Contaminant contaminates withal
That evil ways take opportune advantage;
A serpent in the barrel slakes with single taste
His thirst and so enjoys the vintage all to waste;
Bids constantly
And haunts, and hunts, dissevers kind communion
Breaks brother off from brother, kin from kin;
A weevil in the brain our fears discover
Alive ever and amain
Along the reaches of our being humankind
All working malign magic in the mazy mind
By its discretions we resign within defeated
And are defined
Until one Man restore us from that fatal tree
Eradicate its emminence over you and me
That One of whom no prophet comes from Galilee
Was spoke mistakenly
An incidental error sowed of Satan’s seed;
Met in a wilderness, defeated there, and bound
Strong man’s possessions pillaged, and his province strook;
This Enemy
No foreigners; then thus no foreign policy;
A Victor hanging from a common tree
A passion that might every one regenerate,
Embrace at door the halt and lame as family.
This poem is also posted at our metanomalies blog: http://metanomalies.com/foreigner-policy/
You can also find this poem at my linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/foreigner-policy-matthew-raymer