Electric

Such a hum. Flies, bees, wasps and varied birds stake their claim. Two magpies fight over branch territory and starlings look for shade. 


The winter blanket recedes and the sun plays its cards. Wounds to heal through Vitamin D. Nurture and burn. 


Dandelions spout and irritate the lawnmower. Many cuts to manoeuvre and back and forth it goes, losing oil.


Joggers skirt by in their tight black leggings. Shades, pods, water bottle and a determination to reach exhaustion. It feels good and the family will admire. 


No Netflix today. The curtains are open and the outside screams bite. It’s time. Hibernating humans.


Steak and potatoes feed the salad and the fire is out. Yelps from the neighbourhood signify life. They are outing. A fence-barricaded chat is not out of the question.


The surge, they call it. A blackout. No sparks and no heating. Cold in the sun and desperate.


Candlelight is seen through windows and blanketed adults warm their children. Food is hard to come by and tins are opened by force. 


Rusting cutlery feeds.


Ants live their best lives. Scuttling across tabletops to absorb the mess. Weight and hunger. Not an issue.


Sirens and screams are heard. What do they have to do to? We never learn. Covid and toilet paper. People are best left alone.


Paramedics race through the streets while doctors tend to home life. Blue lights are emergencies while appointments are postponed.


The boys complain about the cold so the fire licks. Kindling and cat food boxes to pace make. Logs go on top and begin to heat the room.


Electric houses, controlled by phones. Windows to heating to secure entrance. The game is up. Sit in your vast rooms and freeze. The house dictates and you are lost.


There’s a knock on the door. The water is boiling but it takes half an hour longer. Steaks fry slowly but they will reach medium. Ignore it.

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