3 poems by Scott Cumming

Snowy Supernova

The cold hard shoulder
enshrouded her in snow
fighting to find the fault
that brought the journey
to a slipping, sliding
treacherous halt

The sleet blinding
no start, no end
the blustering blizzard
masking his approach
until too late

You can still see the face
you chased
the dreams of being his queen
pushed too far
the reality being caught
on the other side of his door

You worshipped
as if to an Incan God
your romantic ideal
the emperor you wished
to unclothe

No flair in his heart
cast out
rejected, stung
undeterred, you violently yearned
a free world for the spurned

Criminal charges avoided
attached yourself to the lecturer instead
until tenure revoked
family torn, reputation tattered
jumping before pushed

Stomach pumping
long recovery bumping
along your rocky path
excavating for reasons
a bright future
supernova-ed

All led to tonight
a double shock of fright
an unexpected sight
a dredging of things thought
left behind
the realisation the tyre iron
is a multi purpose tool.

Smarter people than me have articulated the same ideas better, but they’ll never be as good at LMA Manager 2002.

the human brain typing faster
than it could hope to evolve
The human mind left in the dust
the screen resolutions getting clearer
as our ethics grow murkier

an age of extremes
where corruption roams freely
the deeds more obtuse
minutes shredded and burned
across a thousand boardrooms

the meek have inherited
forgetting power strangles
bloats and fosters

extreme hunger
extreme poverty
extreme inequality
extreme racism
extreme prejudice
extreme force

all bought and sold
no bad press
the same cash pays the cartels
that goes under the desk
no dignity
no shred of sense
in the right tax code
you can live beyond lawlessness

blood, death and fears
lining the pockets
spit, sniff and sneer
refresh once more.

In the car park at the end of it all

The chill in the air
rubbing against the sun’s
harsh glare

Sharp cut of suits and ties
undercut by all the
bloodshot eyes

The war dead
who’ll go on
living in your head

Another mother’s grief
blown and wiped
across a borrowed handkerchief

A godfather vows vengeance
in soft spoken, violent
credenzas

The surveillance team zooms
hoping for the intel
to consign the animals
to locked rooms.