Paradise

When life mounds chaos in every corner,

Dream of pasture-fed cattle roaming rich, green meadows

Who gaze at you through healthy, kind-bright eyes

And stand still while you stroke their sturdy necks;

Fantasise of sheep drinking water that does not need

Bearing across slippery yards in leaking buckets

But cascades clear in flowing streams,

And of vegetables planted in rows interspersed with flowers.

But when in paradise,

Seek out the barn where they hide the broken tractor,

The rickety ladder and the hose with holes;

There make your bed beneath broken rafters

Among breeze blocks and bird shit; drink cheap beer,

Smoke dirty cigarettes and pump out Pink Floyd

Safe in the comfort of knowing

That even paradise is incomplete

Without this part.