
In a frenzy, they run and jump wildly;
The mania of the many has set in.
Toilet paper tantrums line aisle seven;
Milk splashing dominates the fridges.
Nothing remains for the few sane ones;
Starving from the mob’s unkindness.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
In a frenzy, they run and jump wildly;
The mania of the many has set in.
Toilet paper tantrums line aisle seven;
Milk splashing dominates the fridges.
Nothing remains for the few sane ones;
Starving from the mob’s unkindness.
Too much seclusion from the terror of humanity;
Toilet paper sequestration neither deters nor hinders idiots.
As humanity leaves nature to fall, you withdraw into a cocoon of sadness. Not even the moon can console your fears and longing for love’s touch.
Quiet dimly lit highways;
country roads overlook cows, sheep, powerlines.
Over the hills, an ocean of blue;
cold seawater foaming, spraying the shore.
Quitting the house, taking a midnight journey
through our memories;
we drive along those roads free as two birds.
No thoughts of lockdown, or a killer virus;
just wishfully thinking that we could live forever.
“It’s a lovely day.”
“So sunny and cool.”
[8 hours pass on the sofa]
“I love how we have all these amazing escapades from the couch, yet we never go outside.”
“It’s not so good for the waistline, though.”
“Yeah. Do you care?”
“Not really.”
“Feed me cheese, and-.”
The sky is blue.
Fat cupids dance in the clouds.
I might have a breakfast beer and watch tv.
Another parcel arrives: still no toilet paper.
More tea, kettle? The kettle hates me, and the biscuit tin is empty.
I’m so alone in Isolation.
Ghosts, sing Nick Cave songs with me.