Why bother with a reply that leaves
the question alive? By firing blanks
survival isn’t surmised in a gesture
of obeisance rather than defence;
old timers say, to keep your hopes
alive aim where ricochets play the
odds sweetly and defiance means
you can’t be swayed by deference
The firing line isn’t a place to stay
without an abundance of the best
copper-tipped epithets - you don’t
need any direct hits to make your
antipathy evident - and that has a
way of discouraging adversaries
© 4 January 2014, I. D. Carswell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem