Chosen for further distribution

Having

A free-verse poem

Photography by Author, 2020

The package looks perfect
with the glow of the lights
the dog growing old
the baby sleeping
through the night
the heating on
a chicken in every pot
a car in the drive.
Capitalism look’s good
living in auto-drive.
As you walk closer
you see the cracks
glazed over
as quick as a click
on Netflix
the lounge position
the common denominator
sinking into the sofa
while we make love
sand in our hands
desperate to slow things down.
Of course, we are happy
its that feeling
like an adolescent
being pulled by a parent
pain is a nuisance
like elders wax.
The mirror reflects
but can it detect
a lull, a din
a pin drop?
Domesticity is a thief
a crook, a cheat.
Waiting for you
to become
comfortable
fat and greedy
before filling you up
with dust promises
and gray ambition.