For Beth & Samuel
Under wind-tipped red umbrellas they take midday shade
laid out behind sunglasses
flat down on sand-itch sunbeds
hiding from the equatorial burn
which catches us
the unblocked
out
They are separated
for now
by the short array of kindly shadows
between palms and the sky
set in another timezone
they submit to sleep’s distorted demands
to dream
to reset their love and lives
The room service maid knocks
but I am flat out
heat beaten
and living under AC rules
as my wife tours islands
and our family is spread
wider than ever by time
and all forms of travel
but connected instantly
by wires and algorithms
because we all lie
with noxious devices
which cheat distance
and sleep
Arrayed like solar panels
but bearing the weight
of sunburnt Russians
these beach beds align
nation unto nation
before the Indian Ocean
bringing equality back
as fat men match six packed
and sagged women
note cellulite on sex objects
To drown the screams of Chinese
I put my headphones on
Genuine fakes
why leave
why leave?
Here the lights
sometimes not lie
about LV bags
sat above silver
winking watches
Here in the food market
The Nolan Sisters sing
streamed off Spotify
Here fat white men
plod with Thai wives
We could be in London
and the list rolls out
of brands and lies
here in Thailand
We are first classed
thousand miled aircrafted
then for two nights
cocooned
in AC hotel rooms
and then carriage locked
up north
in a wooden house
without the locks
which cut off
thank (fucking) god
