Poetry

Don’t talk over me

Chatting away to a piece of wired glass

is not unusual nowadays.

Communication, these magic mirrors,

across oceans and mountains and tonnes of fresh air –

well, perhaps not so fresh anymore,

not where we lurk at least.

Mingling human jelly babies,

both heat and cold make us stick together,

even when our bodies are so distant,

or our thoughts so far away

from the concerns groaning up from the ground

beneath our feet.

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