fright runner potatoes road drifting twisted pinch glassy prickled neck shifted still
Poets & Storytellers asked us to use: teeth, hammer, blooms.
A Twisted View
The world comes to him.
Brashly, loudly, relentlessly.
Stories of grief and gloom
Stories of contrived love,
Of kittens in distress,
Lycra bums on bikes
Racing down foreign roads,
Men with no necks
Chasing leather balls
On sodden paddocks,
As if it mattered.
Politicians with earnest looks,
Dubious intent,
And doubtful prospects,
Arguing the day’s talking points,
Hammering the opposition,
Drifting (or running)
Into hyperbole as required.
A pinch of salt is also required.
The news— or some movie,
Hard to differentiate—
Both designed to frighten,
Anger or entertain,
Stories that prickle and prod.
In between, the advertisements,
Earnest people with perfect teeth
Hammer, hammer, hammer home
The message: Buy, buy, buy.
Glassy eyed and foggy brained,
Still sitting where he was yesterday
And the times before that. Still.
Outside, life shifts—seeds grow, bloom,
Wither and die.
Unperturbed, he reaches for a crisp—
Potato eats potato.
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