November 13, 2023Poem

Why do they stare

lossnaturecitypoliticstimeidentity

Why do they stare

Those lip-lickety

Sticketybeaks

With a nose for voyeurism

Amateur photographers

Dilettantes of freedom

To do unto others

But not unto them

Given the chance to be

The narrative

Shuffling in the cold

At a crime scene

Slowing down to witness

First-hand

Bloody roadside devastation

Divorced from the consequence

Feigning indignation

Righteously held

Hands clasped to mouths

In horror

Mockingbird prayers

Rubbernecking

From a place of safety

Tongues clucking

Picking over the wreckage

Pecking at the detritus

Plucking at the stitches

A flock of feral pigeons

Old mother hens

Gobbling up scraps

Inflammatory titbits

Scotfree information

Gone overboard.

Moaning at a bottleneck

Blaming the victim

Breaking bread over a disaster

The news timed

For high tea

World War Three comes with large fries

And a diet Coke

What happened to cause so many to believe

They could be influencers,

Sell hair restorer

With an accumulator

Bet said Fred,

Snake charmers and salesman

Building a presence

On pretence.

Somebody else’s misery

Turned into an opportunity

To raise a profile

When truth is a commodity

Gratuitous

Self-promotion

Is a rags-to-riches story

Published online

An opinion piece

Bite-sized and

Contextually-free.