Cautioned that it’ll be curtains soon.
Auntie interviewed a nuclear weapons specialist on the news at ten
Only caught the end but it stuck. His curtness. The blows uncushioned.
Struck by the speaker’s fretful manner when discussing
The shameful direction we as a species had taken
I sat up in bed, leant closer
Oceanblue boxlight from the 65″ OLED with boxsmell
Like a half deaf person watching Tenet, practically hugging the box
Frankly he looked disgusted, and shook
While the reported talked, the expert would look
Over his shoulder, toward his four lock door
As if at any moment without warning some drones might storm it
His eyes moved slyly side to side
Like a Rook confined to the starting line
I watched with increasing trepidation
His dour presentation
A repackaged forever malaise for the daylong craze generation
The shaking hand and staccato speech of this dignified creature
Reached me more deeply than any tutor’s teachings
Masters from UCD, hands too clammy to cram in his USB
His undecorated flat looked half abandoned
He looked himself half a man, haunted haggard
One hat and one scarf unmatching sat sad atop a half-mast rack
The last remaining books on the background shelves pulled into focus:
Flood Stories from World Myth, Recipes from Irish Country Houses, London Fields, and a John Garth guide to Tolkien.
Alchemisland 
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