Seven Takes on Occasion

by Alan Gould

Occasion dreams a tiger snake,
dream's adrenalin I can't share.
I dance, I sleep, so who's awake?
Which self can say, But I was there?

Occasion burgeons like a cloud.
I am molecular and shy.
Electron-buzz, electron-crowd,
but where's it gone, my birthday sky?

Occasion chokes a room with smoke.
The given here is bloke and bloke.
Sensible to scoot but I
abide the blokish No! and fry.

Occasion lets me dole out pain,
I'm pliant through my interest.
My supervisor seems so sane,
I do the harm, but am distressed.

Occasion’s bludger cornered me,
his claimant smile, his sherry teeth.
Fantastic, man, the view you see
of humankind from underneath.

My father said, Build character
and you'll find light for each occasion.

I watched his innocent hauteur
police the back-blocks of  evasion.

A man came walking who could get
a multitude to his persuasion.
Just feed them, was his hard equation.
Miracles I doubt, and yet                
I've watched him rise to each occasion,
feed the intellect to let
each person rise to each occasion.


‘Seven Takes on Occasion’ will appear in Alan Gould’s forthcoming collection, Folk Tunes, due from Salt Publishing in June 2009.