Original version of a poem recently published with Free Verse Revolution Publishing…
They are watching you on the bus
“Don’t be paranoid.”
No literally they are watching you, look.
Where does the footage go?
There I am
Women and kids
That guy that always wears the Star Wars top
Did we give our consent?
We’re living in a post, post, post truth world of GDPR
One rule for one
And whatever goes for the other
Bragging on tape that you think nothing of rape
Coffees full of Russian bullion
But it’s all fake I suppose
When a president’s nose is longer than a fairy tale
Possessions, democracies, all fake
My mind is on the take
The idea of free will just a construct (sold on the back of a cereal packet) to justify unskilled demagoguery
The failing New York Times wipes away its tears of laughter
The joke really doesn’t stop, it really doesn’t
The wheels on the bus go round and round and round and round and round
“Are you OK?”
Awakening from my heat wave I gaze into the void and say
Some people are happy watching re-runs of the time they scored a home run
riffin on a Springsteen glory day
and that time we were in the forest it was as still and as quiet as it had ever been,
there was no one there, just me and you, I could hear your breath and feel your warmth up against me, desperate for visceral human interaction, we looked up and saw the moon so full, the lake lapped against the shore.
You looked into my eyes and told me you were frightened,
your friend’s Dad had gone mad, he’d chased you through the house,
you hid in the cupboard but his search was furious,
Furious, he was hungry like a wolf
he grabbed you, like a scene from a horror film…
You then stopped, no breath, no air, we were the only ones in the world.
and I held you.
Silver translucence surrounded you,
Wasn’t sure what it was that I was supposed to do.
I did love you
but what has love got to do with this naked moment of pure confession?
I only just remembered this story as I went searching for denouement
to make sense of my inane bus ramblings, my frustrated journalistic sub-Snowden pre-amblings
I went wandering into that most dangerous of places, the mind with its mazes and untrustworthy corridors of treachery.
Never found out what happened in the end.
©John de Gruyther 2018