Gavin Ewart


I want to be carried, heavily sedated,
into a waiting aircraft.
I want to collapse from nervous exhaustion.
I want to bow my head like Samson
and bring down with me
the top ten advertising agencies.

I want to see the little bosses
vanish like harmless fairies.
I want the pantomime to be over,
the circus empty.

I want what is real to establish itself,
my children to prevail,
to live happy ever after 
in this world that worships the preposterous.

It is better to be a scribe 
than hacking at the salt mines,
heaving the building blocks.
Everybody wants to be a scribe.

But I want out. I want non-existance.
A passive dream, a future for my children.

Disclaimer: I have no permission from anyone to put this up on the Web. It is very possibly a complete violation of extant copyright law. However, I do have a life (although it may not be obvious to the casual onlooker), and typing all this up is a complete and utter labor of my unabashed hero worship for the person quoted above. So don't sue, please.

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