Eric Wood


Age of Absurdity      


The age of conformity

Sucked the life from Blackburn’s soul

Despite appearances otherwise

Snared by his sympathy

For those buying what they’re sold

And his compassion for their lives

One cloudy afternoon

From his bare-bulb

He picked his target, aimed and fired

As the parade of money changers passed below

And into history he retired



Into this great crisis

No creeping Jesus could crawl

No revelation rights this

No place in hell for him to fall


The Age of Absurdity

Was injected in his arm

He must have seen it coming too

It was a world ruled by the very best informed

Justice was swift for the accused

Heartless expedience

Bred cold intolerance

For things not evidentially true

The age of absurdity

The most royal audience charmed, but

The curtains closed to no reviews