Watchful, he scorned the world
marijuana fumes drifting
through a sliver of opened window.
He scoured the news,
his critical eye cross-referencing
the cynical politics of people.
He remained a dis-enchanted worker,
never took the shilling,
didn’t believe the guff and bluster
of our glorious leaders.
The world had gone to hell
and so he though, would he.
He died aged 71, skinny as a spliff.
Copyright © J.M.Brown 2016