Mad Old Tim

Tim who read Barker,
Maimed his reality with it- and mine-
Passed us in the quad;
Eyes akimbo,
A swaggering Ubu,
He said:
“Have a nice war.”
He was being
Postmodern,
Ironic,
Charming,
Witty,
Imploding in his egocentric individualism.
“Crazy little Penfold twat.” I thought-
With my regulated empathy stirring from
The pifty shadows of recent footsteps
On anti-war marches.
Looking back it seems
Sonorous;
A crystal shard of sense.
And we did-
Have a nice war.