No Good News
Grey dawn with builder’s tea and buttered toast
my computer eyes the dark world
for sewer stories that stick like burrs.
The woman who axes her boyfriend’s neck
The hacked baby’s video monitor: screaming obscenities.
A multi-orgasmic woman hospitalised.
Tiny deer the size of a hamster
Thirty-eight-million gallon reservoir drained after a drunk teenager pisses in it.
I dredge and edit.
A global swap of click-bait news
from this quiet English village
main-lined to the dark heart of New York
Later, running through woods that are a scrabble of branches under a winter sky
I long to forget news that lodges like silt. No matter how fresh the air.