a poem of those removed from their mouths

zip up the anorak try

and stay hid, if the

radars don’t get you

the people’s -

contagion will, there’s

rhetoric and words -

harsh as sticks, bullying

at every tier and tearful

how we all hang from

the gallows of each

other’s judgements,

there’s a glass outhouse

in all of us, come stone

me with accusation

expect missiles back,

watch the facades crack

there’s hurtful and there’s

spite, trolls are for real

and continue to kill from

laptop despicable bridges

best to keep underneath

to keep unheard, there’s

a hearse with your name -

emblazoned should it find you -

in a ditch of don’t notice,

ignore me as the swarm

passes crowded ideals

ill fitted and noisy

and the stance they try to

preach from is too full of

holes, and the flags that

are waved are cocksure -

and loaded, goading those

quiet to further endure

silence, endurance until

history becomes tombstones

suture me quick to keep

the voice closed, thumb

under and stay there

without opinion

stay dumb or at least

with no preference and numb,

no point or view to irritate the hive,

hide in bland bludgeoned programmes

the polls are saying

subdue, you won’t

be counted just fodder

for lonely to prowl

don’t choose or no other option,

think yourself part of disunity

and aberration when albion is

reckless and caring is scarce

you’re a monitored statistic

a digit to be disgraced,

button up dissent and

prolong queuing

confiscate living let

freedom sing its jailed song,

pity those everywhere

all elsewhere is futile

knot yourself up in

straight jacket ties

expect medication soon

borrow from yesterday

tomorrow is not expected to live

appear once

like the frugal crocus

goes unseen mostly

then gone as its

colour collapses

like us in the draughty

sighed loneliness

trying to catch

spare moonbeams whilst fading

the view is certain of

falling, failing

no rain would

be returning

a gaze of

once

an echo

a copy of the mirror’s glaze

fits eyelids

well and woods them

fewer times are spent being happy, now is being archived root-and-delved-all

ephemeral

like i said, love, once

its gasp never

reoccurred again