Words that curve over the edge
Of yesterday,
that swirl in derision
over the blasting rock
through the stereo,
that twirl in lullabies
as you whisper goodnight,
that you can taste
merrily over Christmas
rum cakes and sugarpies
Touch with the tip of your tongue
and taste the meaning
Of each and every syllable
as it slides off and rolls off with the
Flecks of saliva flicked into the air
Words they wound the
Images of contentment you cannot see
They braze past sweet memories
And collide with what seem
To be collections of embraces
Between the greys of sick days
And happily written
Mental impressions
Sealed by the presses
Of Innocent Memorobilia
Words on the crispy pages
Of a morning newspaper
That chilled hands pass out
Outside of the metro doors
The black print describing
The hot news of the day
Fresh off of the early air
And smell of rainy descent
Dripping upon its pictures
Of anonymous faces in
Pakistani camps
Where refugees live in
Colours of blues and whites
And behind a long scarf
Of red a baby was moulding
Beneath a mother’s belly
Among Sudan’s dead
And on top of sheets
Of thin rubber pleats
a patient with
Eyes to see
An imminent bereavement
In the composure of the
Bodies that come by their
Bed with dreadful smiles
Of deep consolement
To redress her ointment
And shake their heads
In disappointment
At the helplessness
They have yet to comprehend
The fear that vibrates through her
juddering hands
in Somalia
the pirates parade
over gorgeous shades of
sea waves
dark gun in hand
and sadness restling
all over their sunkissed face
a catch today
means reports tomorrow
on humans held
on decks of sorrow
so laugh or chide
at the unknown molesters,
the terrorists that is said
to harass beyond the borders
and forget the letters
they gave you the sounding
in your head that something
in the world has gone askew
eject the pictures on the paper
because it disrupts your appetite
and long cooled your caffeine
in the Starbucks cup
you purchase each early day
before you even had a chance
to cool its hot contents away
yes neglect
the passages of obituaries
of fallen soldiers
of cancer patients
of old age victims
of what inevitably lies ahead
and shelter yourself with
thoughts of misconstructions
that build brick by brick the
walls of your world,
the metal steel with concrete
filling in
the deficiency of your miseducation
and smile at all the temporal
things that momentarily satisfy you.


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