-after Pablo Neruda, Walking- around.
I am sick of being the target, a patsy for all those money-making swindlers
out on a spin. Those double truthers lisping tongues on the fame game.
The fiddlers on how to write their family history, their gutter minds dawdling.
I am sick of neon-lit evening scenes on a boulevard somewhere, the rich and restless gossipers
sniffle, refuse to be the first to leave, polish off their double-speak.
I am sick of it all, the single supplement, the Friday take-out meal, unclaimed lotteries, and deals.
I’m the one to do tasks in full, only find them send back, again I am too swift.
I give the street beggar my last coins and laugh uproariously when a driver in a Mercedes arrives to fetch him and bring him home.
Today, I read that somewhere, far away, a scutching fire cleansed. End.
Margaret Kiernan s an Irish author, and a Best of The Net Nominee, for 2021 and 2022. She writes poetry and prose and is widely published. She writes with Over-the-edge, Galway. Her background is in social justice and Diversity.