John Keyes

Light diffused a hazy firmament,
Tight confused a humid temperament.

A drop, a mist, a thundersome roar,
It’s soft, it’s hard, a loud drum downpour.

We scuttle, we cower, while heavens flow free,
Umbrellas, tight raincoats, neath foliaged tree.

And when the fresh patter is with us no more,
We’re left to savour that sweet petrichor.

Boasting.

Look at meee.

Enveloped wrapped in deepest dark
Knees curled womb like nervous tight.
Future visions in waves descend
Shrouded gloom clouded stark in flames.

The hole it shows,
the chasm grows,
no fence no rope,
no peace no hope.

Fast-fashion.

Nauseating.

Exhorbitant consumerism and the social media voyuerist haul celebrations.

We are eating the world.