Running Around
Running around,
nothing much doing,
nothing much to be seeing.
With your head in the sand,
how do you ever expect to understand?
Like a gormless freak
when people speak to you —
invader from my mind,
can’t quite believe it is true.
I shot pure gold
into the arm of a latter-day King Midas;
just everything he touched
was metallic and cold.
He kept on running around
and sleeping rough in town;
then he got angry, and he got down.
The landscape was tattered and torn,
but he was still running around.
How can they get things done
in the new age sun,
as other things start?
James Garratt – Monday 6th March 1995
More poems at
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/
More about this blog, The Boy Behind the Glasses, here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/2020/01/08/the-boy-behind-the-glasses-an-introduction/
More poems from 1995 here
https://theboybehindtheglasses.com/category/poems-and-writing-1995/
Running Around – Monday 6th March 1995 (Aged 20)
The Boy Behind The Glasses. Poetry and Writing 