It
is the empty shops behind the glass.
Download
more buttons to tell us the time.
X
marks the place for long distance mime.
A
million phones give an online class.
Trains
fill with no one in particular.
Carpark
of rust sharps and wet autumn leaves.
A
mirage of masks it seems, half-day gloves.
Jog
with dog at sunset spectacular.
Life’s
so precious people do anything.
Avenues
of stay home, roads of asleep.
State
of emergency now resetting.
The
mental hustle, the indoor bustle.
Which
bits to fit which bits, what not to keep.
This
infernal pest of a jigsaw puzzle.
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