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  • Writer's pictureMartin Wardley

The hammer

I’ve played with them all

I’ve worked with them all

I’ve danced with them all

Crossed swords with them all:

The square, the round

The short, the tall

The disillusioned by it all

The empty, the gifted

The bitter and twisted

The ecstatic, the erratic

The objective and pragmatic

The heavy, the light

Those up for a fight

The complacent, the fragrant

The blessed and the vacant

The rogues, the malevolent

The saints and the benevolent

The bright, the composed

The objective, the considered

The rash and emotive

The rude and embittered

The gorgeous, the lovely

The morally ugly

The patient, the blatant

And those with no fuse

The bold and the slap-stick

The slightly obtuse

The selfish, the philanthropists

The narcissists and altruists

The loud and the raucous

The wild and the cautious

The calm and the silent

The vexed and the violent

I found

Common ground

With them all

Save he with nought

But a hammer

Swinging it around

In random fashion

Dangerously charged

With wanton abandon

With perfect disregard

For everything

At everything

In response to everything

An answer to everything

No finesse, no empathy, no grace

No self awareness, no style, no taste

Just a hammer

No composure, no dignity, no structure

No appreciation, no imagination, no culture

Just a hammer

And little there is

For this oblivious abyss

All tools proving fruitless

All action deemed useless

All subtleties battered

All craft lay in tatters

So I park all the art and technique

Shake off, stand tall and dig deep

And with more than a slight sigh

Of reluctant and hesitant defeat

I take out my hammer

4th Feb 2021

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