I carry anger as the flint bears fire, to steal from Shakespeare,
and I don’t agree with Horace that anger is a short madness,
I am more Osborne as I look back in anger for that is where the story is
and I am certain my anger is neither noble nor healthy.
Maybe, prompted by Ginsberg, I get off on an angry fix,
and carry obsession and addiction on this quest for clues.
Maybe I am incomplete and need to be made whole,
perhaps ‘anger is one of sinews to the soul’*.
There are more questions than answers.
There is more anger than compassion.
There is, however, a half-open mind……….