not for us this world of plastic skies
defined by bauble pixels
flashing lights reflect in empty eyes
and rictus smiles
as the package is passed on
no mystery this fragile thread
connecting us to such an
obviously fake
reality
there isn't much that doesn't touch
and touching, freeze
and freezing, die
returning, wrapped in plastic
slightly brighter
less inviting
dead
and we who stumble helpless
through this field
of well-dressed zombies
keep it quiet
hiding out in pockets or in corners
with our raincoats huddled tightly
and our umbrellas
forgotten
on the train
not for us this plastic sky of rotting code
and artefacts
we all pretend we cannot see
i wasn't there
i didn't do it
anyway
it wasn't me...
Banishing by Wayne Myers