When I was “in despair” (the dark days
when I actually used such terms)
I noticed the behavior of animals — 
              sleep when tired, eat when hungry
That made a lot of sense to me
and yet I felt different
              I felt my humanness too much
No fly ever wonders whether it should make
lots and lots of maggots
              It gives birth on a mound of cat food
or inside the rubbish bin
As far as I know
it’s not worried about overpopulation
or what sort of environment its kids
              will grow up in
My humanness sees me at an art gallery
              watching others
                            watching walls
My humanness gives me dark thoughts
of cruel behavior
              You are in the States
a visa glitch and there you remain
              Like Star Trek, I talk to you on a screen
              your face half a second out of sync
with your speech
              I’m in the future
              my Tuesday is already over
and I want to tell you all about it
              to prove my superiority
That lovely conceit of time
              that saw people travel from all over the world
to be in Gisborne
              for the first sunrise
                            of the new millennium
              Remember
how we all thought the sewer pipes would burst
              and the criminals would escape
              or something like that
                            Y2K packs sent to every household
                            because no one knew for certain
                            what the numbers 2000 really meant
              Somewhere, people, important people
                            cowered in bunkers
                                          fearing the worst

  • Source: Poetry (February 2018)

Poet Bio

What People are Saying

"Performing a poem out loud of my choosing created this new and more personal connection to poetry for me. In addition, POL gave me the confidence that I never thought I had and it taught me that I could apply it everywhere I went. "
Cayla Turner
2018 MD POL Champ