The Man in White Boots
Black and white, white and black,
Chequered pieces, dual traces,
He, mends dualities, traverses instead
In the inbetweens.
Between the rum that is ravished,
Raw, raucous, summer ripe.
And the beer that is quenched,
Brawny but brain bewitched.
He walks on the road,
Reclaimed king from the margins.
Onward his own promised kingdom,
Memory of the father, the defiance of the son, and his holy spirits.
No Comments