The weirdest time to be alive
Shut off, in concave houses
Dead to the world
Except the delivery man
A shell burning from the inside out
Due to family tiffs and full blown rows
Drifting from one room to another
Like mouldy, unshowered ghosts
Undecided, aimless
Wandering like wicker men.
Eyes darting from screen to screen
Big and bright
Then small and polluting.
Tiktok guzzlers
Stay at home Sally’s
Faux pro medics
Idiots dressed as preachers
Experts waxing lyrical about distancing
Stockpiling
Worrying
Dying.
In amongst all the chaos I sit
Like a bit of pavement in Syria
A bird above an explosion
A witness to a car crash.
Calm, serene
Calmer and serene-r
Than I’ve ever been-er
Fomo kept at bay
At home is where I stay
Drunk on harmony.
Talking to my pillow. 