poetry

the ballad of rasta jack

Doth our hero answer the door?

He seldom goes out anymore

For his subjects come to him

And buy the wares held within

No, he lives on roll ups,

Endless tea

To fuel his flights of fantasy

For on the page

He plays out tricks

As elves speak of his politics

And orcs have organised

These things came out to his surprise

But other things are on his mind

The petty fights of the daily grind

These two worlds,

He cannot join

It all unfurled

Over some coin

A headlight crack’d to

Remind a debt

And this young man

Came to direct

An accident at Jack’s door step

And angered vows

Both men made

Jack says a knife was soon bought out

And Jack he said

That he doth shout

‘“Good sir, there is no

Need to draw on swords

I am a man of deeds and

Words

But this anger which you hath

Displayed

Causes me such great dismay

Do not lay such actions

At my front door

My debt repaid

And nothing more

But the man lashed out

The knife was swung

And soon such battle was begun

Jack took up swords

He’d learned to wield

But weakest words

Soon revealed

He wielded it without a clue

And the mans thigh

He soon sliced through

Death was not seen

With stoic eyes

Jack smoked a joint

To blunt the cries

In this,

Our tale’s final twist

Revealed,

Rasta Jack

Called out to

Police

There is something

To be said for that

Which stabbed the illusions

Of

Rasta Jack.

 

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One thought on “the ballad of rasta jack

  1. Pingback: Weekend Omnibus | MB Blissett

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