Journey of Words

For a man of supposed detail
In the grand scheme of things
His blueprint must have been a rough scamp
Sketched out on the back of a crumpled Camel cigarette pack
Goodness knows where he got the builders from
They follow disjointed principles of random construction

When someone needs to get any of his projects fixed he never returns calls
The planet is scattered with remains
Of his wonky designs
Efficient in some ways
Almost perfect for a time
Mostly fatally unsuitable in practise
His prize creation flatters to deceive
Strangely wired to self-destruct
Taking with it an entire planet
Containing fine examples of his aesthetically better work
Although incompatible with each other
Like VHS tapes in a Betamax player
It's a bloody mess
Call yourself an architect
Once someone thought they had made contact
Wrote everything in a book
To absolutely no avail
In the end someone else said
Have you tried speaking to his son

~

n.b. Prompt from NaPoWriMo 2026, Day 3 of the 30 Day challenge.

CLP 03/04/2026