We Will Get Old

We will then rue
how much time
we dead-stared
at gripping light

at bright scrolls
& herded bleats
on social media
[how much time

we gave blind to
urges of friends –
apes never met]
Our trivial troop

isn’t pukka fidus
Achates/ Delete
is not an option/
Dead friend lists

will haunt us all –
we will get old &
never know who
is truly breathing

Posted

We want to be heard –
us mutterers – we discontents
who can mussitate

I told you so –
because our righteousness
is so bloody close to Godliness

But we do not carry confidences
in such overbearing entities
and we would rather

leave prayers to those humbled
souls who kneel before altars
with their bare-faced soles

We malcontents will feed
in fast flowing streams
until they run with our blood –

torrents drip-drip-dripped
from our nail-hammered
word-wrung hands

Pinned up and posted –
just another Jesus Christ
expletive – re-fucking-tweeted

The Scent of People

Larner feared removal
of the scent of people
in crowded wiki articles

Dumb grazing animals
hardly move from hoof to hoof
with their heads down

At this bar
three men sit
before chemical beer
misdirected and under-lit

Tommy Robinson spits
as poor aims are raised
by squaddies at politicians

and three men take turns
to buy another Peroni
without exchanging words

We know everything
by what we read and watch
whilst bent to scent-free pastures

Twitter for Dummies

Forget them kids,
your latest results,
your failures are
the teachers’ fault.

Then finger the poor,
those necessitous –
the lazy grazers,
who benefit off us:

Shoot from the hip
your spiteful aims,
we are all makers
in this self-made game.

Bring your fury
upon others’ beliefs,
that hateful tweet
is your true motif.

Trumpf Coverage

Covfefe gets coverage
and Trumpf is berated,
tweeted from his iPhone
which had been confiscated:

He had rang up Melania
from his POTUS bed,
‘How do you spell ‘coverage’?’
Her reply he mis-heard..

‘Ka-Oh-va..
fff-ee-fff-eee..’
POTUS sounded the letters,
quite carefully,

but pressed ‘Tweet’ too quick
(with his very small fingers) –
covfefe hung there,
like a bad fart it lingers.