The Day
My snarling flash drive
numbed my approach
as I drove fifty clicks
into the morning, still dark.
I did obeisance
to my tyrannical inbox,
it showed no mercy
to either side of the screen.
Everyone had an axe to grind,
not least of all me,
but the futureless kid at the traffic lights
would probably have settled for a pie.
I shovelled some cholesterol
into the gash in my face
and chased it down with coffee,
strong as the strongman
from the travelling circus,
I can't drink it any other way.
Much grinding of axes continued,
some of it by me,
but the forgotten old man at the traffic lights
may have settled for a pie.
My inbox, by late afternoon,
was plainly laughing at me,
and obeisance continued
on both sides of the screen.
As I drove fifty clicks
into the evening, now dark,
my snarling flash drive
hypnotised my retreat.
1st August 2018
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