I see the privilege of my shopping cart anxiety,
texting Rob to weigh up limited edition colourways.
I see how much cash goes down the drain
along with high percentage, highly priced dregs.
I see the importance of personal responsibility,
choosing the sofa over an illicit meet up in the park.
I see how much my Joe’s and Chris’ and Cat’s mean
to the normal, everyday functioning of my wellbeing.
I see however many hours you spend on Mario Kart,
your skills are nothing to a CPU favouring chance.
As red shells are projected through banana skin fields
I barely see my coffee table over an ever-growing gut.
I see on the morning news even the loudest provocateur
talking more sense than ministers in his headlights.
I see the value in having acknowledged your neighbours
when you’re all out of flour for your next sour dough loaf.
I see the glimmering sparks of a chemical reaction
at the utterance of a polite hello or smiles between strangers.
It’s all so clear now, our kindness and similarities
dancing it out in a long, stretched queue for junk.
I see we aren’t all quite looping a level playing field
in the rough, tired face of someone sat by the door.
I see the skeletons of trees hatch little buds of life
that grow green and shine by the warming, sunny day.
I see how nature’s got one up on all its guests,
its drama-less blue skies and sweet morning birdsong
gracing even the most built up, concrete paths.
I see a morning routine of showers and shaves
can provide focus through this great unknown
and it’s okay too to feel low and lost and longing.
I see if it will be a good day in the just woken greetings
of my partner I’ll laugh together with all day long
need to pick up or be picked up by from another dip.
I see the blessing of these three daily routes
in the empty backdrop of another Zoom call
not without merit but surely a clockwise crank
of a friend’s silence once ‘End Call’ is clicked.
I see my presumptions, my ignorance,
my self-centredness and selfishness
stewing in the stillness of another Netflix binge.
I see myself reduced to my early twenties self,
coasting through university seminars high,
feasting on books and record’s there’s space for
and how beneath my older face and greyer hair
away from adulthood and office pantomime detail
we’ve all still an essence that’s just well hid.
I see the word count, the minute hand,
the sun inching through the curtains,
the fridge magnets and taunting to-do’s,
the files, saves, posts and futile amends,
the dishwasher needing another emptying
and more thoughts rising to beguile the day.