In spite of the news,
the body got up next morning
continued to
go for a pee,
wash its face,
eat breakfast,
put on clean underwear,
check for holes in the toes of socks,
put one leg into trousers and then the next,
make sure it had a handkerchief,
brush its teeth,
comb its hair,
kiss its wife goodbye
and head off to work.
No one noticed the news on the bus.
The bus driver was cheerful as usual,
the passengers nonchalant, or oblivious,
or listening to their MP3s.
The traffic in general was busy,
checking for red lights,
beeping at drivers cutting in,
whistling along with the pop songs
and, some of them,
talking on their cellphones.
In the office, all was normal,
the news was not remarked upon.
Not even when the body told them.
It barely rippled the surface of their
newspaper, magazine, Codecracker lives.
And the ripples it did make caused
no more than an
Oh. Ah. Sorry.
I wrote this poem on the 29.10.08, and have slightly revised it. I have no idea what the particular 'news' was anymore, and of course, it's not important....
