Friday, April 8, 2016


In the clamour, we only hear the songs of our own lives;
cossetted, yet searching further comfort,
always seeking:
bricks and mortar, bargains, more.
Half-formed thoughts bubble up
as we step over the puddles,
side-stepping faults.
A scroll through atrocities before bedtime,
white glare lighting our fed, full faces,
click to share this.
Download the app,
a double tap
to show condolences,
wear the battery down,
ready to sleep fitful,
dreaming of walls and fear, and dirty cash.
How dreadful, you think, the news is today;
sign the petition,
pay the donation,
then a distraction.
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Easy to forget the news when you look away.
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repeat, repeat, repeat.

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