Poem 278

The death rate continues at 100% – no improvement there … nevertheless ‘like flies’ is not an accurate descriptor, doesn’t quite capture the disappearing trick …

Simmer Down

People are dying
                               not like flies
that spin blue and loud
legs scrabbling to right themselves
and be alive again
                                   people are dying so smoothly
       you don't notice
in their sleep in the still covered
centres of disease in accidents
that take no time
        and are not yours
people are dying refusing to answer
to their names
                          slipping out
leaving their lives on the stove
to quietly simmer down
to nothing