If

If

If there were railings I could lock myself to,

I’d be there, rattling my chains like Marley’s ghost.

If there were a horse I could accost with a ribbon,

I’d brave those thundering hooves in an instant.

If there were a petition that mattered a good God-damn

I’d sign and share till the cows come trundling home.

If there were a politician whose interests extend beyond

Feathering their own nest and feeding their ego

Then I’d be banging down their surgery door,

Sitting down to thrash out a series of proposals.

But there isn’t. There’s all of us, bamboozled

Bewildered, bolshie and battered half to death,

Trying to keep our own heads above water

And fighting for a place on the life raft.

Caterpillar soup

Caterpillar soup

Some years ago I came across a rather curious theory, suggesting that caterpillars and butterflies (or moths) are somehow two different animals in one. You can read about the theory here:

https://www.npr.org/sections/krulwich/2012/08/01/157718428/are-butterflies-two-different-animals-in-one-the-death-and-resurrection-theory and while there’s no conclusive proof that this is so, I find it oddly an oddly compelling way of dealing with the frankly rather amazing life cycle of such creatures. One day perhaps there will be a definitive answer to this question but for the time being, it’s almost a philosophical issue.