Dead Poets' Society

Everyone was nonchalant but you, 
You kept on carping 

Carpe diem, carpe diem, 
The moment’s here, there 

In fact it was everywhere 
But you, you were neither 

Here nor there. 

Ravenous Wakeup Call

Cawing their raucous version 
Of Come and get it! 
The early risers are up 
On the utility lines opposite 
The pigeons cowering 
In their cubbyholes, keeping 
A keen eye out for any unfledged 
Chicks itching for a fling, surely these 
Lovey-dovey gentlemen callers are 
Crooning in the sweet by-and-by, 
There’s always one rash enough to try. 

Comin' Thro' the Rye

Sing a song of no 
Nonsense, laddies— 

Here comes smoking white- 
Bearded old man, 

Sickle on right 
Shoulder, waving 

No bloody left hand. 

Not So Slight After All

Now full-blown and back to stay before you 
Know it, that self-flattering backhanded gesture 
Behind what you took as just 

A passing complement. 

Gossamer Rain

Wait— 

These almost invisible 
Filaments of liquid 

Light, so finespun 
You see only while 

The sun spins away.