When the Witch Doctor Life
throws his silent bones
some are crowned kings
while others lose their thrones
When the Witch Doctor Life
throws his silent bones
small ‘O’ mouths scream
and run to Mama Kangaroo
insecure pouches wherein hide
beggars and drones
and babies and bums and buzzards
Mama crouches and smiles
her old useful smile
and old ego roars – laughs yesterday’s gasses
while children and angels gasp
and follow a shepherd on crutches
When the Witch Doctor Life
throws his silent bones
some flee the dream
some turn to stone
and the children sing
and the heavens ring
worn by the shepherd with the folded wings
and the bones that sing of silence
