The Benignity
Does not come without cost
The benignity, with its age and its steel grey hair,
And its smile — oh, its smile — set firm upon its face,
Marches down the street,
Smiling and smiling and smiling at the “youth,” as it thinks of them,
In their tracksuits and with their ear buds and their MP3s.
It thinks of itself as kind.
Do not tell it that it is not kind,
Do not even hint that it may not be kind,
It will not react well to any idea that it is not kind.
It progresses, in its M and S couture,
In its acceptable hues of beige and beige and beige,
And it smiles and it smiles,
And the lines around the eyes,
So many lines around the eyes,
Harden at the 21st century around it.
But the smile persists,
As the youth persist,
As the rap and the TikTok and the YouTube persist,
And it smiles at them,
From the distance
Of mortgage and security and family and inheritance and Conservatism,
When Conservatism meant something,
And it thinks itself Better,
Because things in the past were Better,
And it does know Better,
And this is its reward for knowing Better,
Marching down the pavement, in M and S outfit, with smile stricture stretched,
Benignly allowing the next generation to do their thing,
While spending their money,
While living their future,
While mortgaging their mortgages,
While their inheriting their inheritances,
While living it up,
In these desperate end of times.
