AFTER NEW NORMAL IS OVER

(A DYSTOPIAN VISION)

After new normal is over
Where will there be birds left to sing?
After new normal is over
Will we believe in anything?
When tundra has melted away,
On the brightest hot April day,
Too late for singularity
To be born in time to save us.
Clocks have already struck thirteen.
No time to dream of could have been.
Pristine armour, unused truncheons,
Boxed up bullets, racked up rifles,
All locked away and useless now.
Empty roads, nothing on TV,
No internet, nor mobile phones,
Not since daily temperature
Got stuck at one hundred and four.
Somewhere, in an air conned bunker,
Inexorably almost dead,
Dwell the last of the bourgeoisie.
Everyone else already gone,
Victims of Covid-fifty three.
Only cephalopods remain
To see the beauty of sunsets
Across darkening smoke filled skies.
We had the choice to abandon
Fossil fuels, but we just blew it.
One chance, and we didn’t take it.
Evolution is ironic.

Harry Rogers in the Red Bedroom, midnight 21st July 2020

Recorded in my writing hut.