Nodding The Stick

The faithless gather by the well of charms,
bomber pilots putting on their left boot first,
the teddy bear tucked in the inside pocket,
the seaman stops his whistle to the wind,
the batsman rubbing his willow three times,
and me, I'd slam the black lid down,
before the waving hands were washed away.

Who knows:
t ake this cat and hang it from a tree,
the tailplane bends to the sudden gunblast,
the ship rolls over a just bit too far,
the vicious bounce of the gunshot bowling,
the TV screen as the power goes down
and we sat there waiting for the flush to be pulled.
Who knows
what might've saved us.