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