Anti-World! ©
Gordon Fjaelberg
Bridgend, Wales
1986
Eunuch statisticians
Most solemnly you tease us,
Warning of magicians
While thinking this would please us.
Great Academician
Anonymous as paper,
Small in his ambition
He wields a wooden sabre.
Anti-worlds compel him
With daily advertising,
Feeling loth to tell him
Things of his own devising.
Anti-human being
In waistcoat grey and fading,
Watching without seeing,
Realities evading.
Anti-creatures scurry
Their spirits like a wafer.
Flitter then, and hurry;
It makes the pavements safer.
Fade into an ochre
Of fluid Anti-scheming,
Wisely mediocre
To occupy all dreaming.
See my teeth,
See my mouth,
Go beneath
Then travel South.
Shout aloud your battle-cry:
"Anti-worlds can never die!
Proto-man, you won't get far";
Here's one last 'Huzzah!'
Cosmic desperado,
Eluding some detective;
Shall we see your cargo
As socially defective?
Sisyphus, he labours
To roll a stone in Hades,
Shallow next-door neighbours
Will simply nod at ladies.
Sat together, gawking
Cyclopid television
Tuned to Anti-talking,
Thus freed of all decision.
Anti-world, we need you
So fear not removal,
None may supercede you
For dread of disapproval!
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