bombs are exploding into the design of our lives
clocks, once stiff with certainty, now oozing down
the mantelpiece like Dali’s prophecy
time has lost its spine
the air is thick with forgotten prayers
a noxious haze
they exchange texts and missiles
these leaders play chess with our bones
our souls are junk for them
our grief is a data point
a hashtag to be scrolled past
a flicker of pixels before the next ad
the world has no sentimental value
it is rightly reflecting our decay
twitter politics evacuates ego inflation
deeper and deeper till our minds masquerade
themselves into a circus of silence
markets quake, politicians pontificate
oh, markets tremble like sick animals
cause the Ministry of War rebrands
the carnage as the game
we are all descending now
the world sinking into the quiet
of a stolen
breath