give peace a chance

— sung from my bed

and

just like that
it is autumn

rain falling drunkenly down on this
holy Monday morn

I sip my coffee from my bedroom window, shivering
enjoying the cold

the trees are all in hushed and back-of-the-church whispers —

listen, they say, listen

ain’t no bombs a-falling here
what a blessing

I spent all last night scrolling
live-feeds, kill cams, talking heads
I hate it all
but there’s some sick part of me thrilled by the spectacle

and the cold isn’t quite as biting as the guilt

I should get out
touch grass
roll around
make love

but

it’s raining
and my love, she’s not at home

see — there’s this teaching of the Buddha’s
(hope you don’t mind if I squander it)

if bandits came across you travelling in the wilds,
stole your goods,
poked you full of holes and
left you for dead

could you forgive them?
love them?
die, loving them?

hell

I’m a little way off that
aren’t we all

overhead in the gunmetal swirl of clouds
a seagull soars

not a drone

hurt people hurt people
fuck calling it culture

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