I went looking for jeans and a jumper
And left the house wearing a dress,
The wind was sour and soft,
Like an embarrassed stranger’s cough,
A disconnected vagary
Hanging on a reverie;
They’d left all known communications dead,
Tired entrepreneurs dished out scribbled notes to plebs,
Entertainers traded pseudonyms like sex,
A mess from stress and kind regards,
Old errors on unmanned, spent radars,
Charred symbols in the parks
And satellites crying from the sky.
It was left to a dazed woman in a torn jumpsuit
To unexplain what had got us all here,
Teary eyed, numb with shock and afraid
Like an old dancehall where the songs stutter then fade,
A mess of washing left out in the rain,
Unlit bonfires and sacks of wet grain,
She sobbed words into a cloud,
All epithets and growls,
And ruined the rest of my day.