Dramas

When a day’s already been frazzled by technocrats 

dispassionately plying their way, we’ve no need for 

dramas ending on our knees; and just as these are 

not immaculate thoughts, one still wonders at what 

is yet to come; we’re resolved to the contretemps - 

the plight of being lesser beings, and so when light 

fades and a satellite beam dies intestate who’ll see 

that actually we’re the only aggrieved innocents 

Holy guacamole won’t solve this impasse, not in its 

misconstrued dimension of being services provided 

geographically-underprivileged-needy-souls - rather 

obvious - but it won’t last any longer than a burp or 

a fart - and wiping agendas is the bureaucratic way 

of resolving whether funds are properly applied 

When our broadband satellite system falters & fails 

we are bereft internet connect because of weather, 

or the fact that it’s Thursday 4 pm - or whatever, or 

a niggle in the woodpile plays fancy games; so cry 

if you must - but no-one’ll hear you this side of the 

black stump - unless the system reboots again … 

© 3 December 2015, I. D. Carswell