We live, spliced more or less;
Deep fissures cut carelessly
Through carefully constructed
Fictions; order presented
To the world whilst back kitchens
Crammed with chaos and decay
Reflect a shaming scission
Between ourselves and our display.
Fractured hearts hide in suburbs
Fair faced whilst passions splinter
Long held dreams; desire disturbs
The pale surface of Winter.
The chasms undredged, silt up
With waste waters that fester
In cold darkness as we sup
With some evasive jester.
Beware the peddlers who sell
The holistic; we can dream
Of healed wounds, of salving gel
To smooth the roughly joined seam.
But the best we can hope for
Is an alloy, soldering
Our fractured selves, whole no more,
But in ice and heat bending.
Laughter sits cold on the slab
Crazy cracked as the world curls,
Corrosion pierces the drab
Walled off worlds where anger hurls
It’s insults, drowned by the noise
Of consumption. Consumption
Indeed – hollow eyed choice
With no tear of compassion.
There are bigger fish to fry
Than our lives’ hidden shallows.
Earth cracks, ashes spew to lie
On new lands, spawn embryos
For some strange adaptations;
New creatures feed from our fractures
Forged by agony, stanchions
For a stage with new actors.