I command the Language

A galleon with a crew of one

Floating in the gloom

Like the carcass of a swan.

Song heard by commuter,

Can’t quite place the words

Search online for a line missing

Find instead love or something

Similar, a message from a lone pirate

In an on-screen bottle spinning

In a teenage party or gambler’s wheel

Winning millions, betting on horses

Or selling virtual courses

In virtual academies, gunfire

Muted temporarily for conversations

On austerity, a necessity

For rising numbers on screens

Translating into Lamborghini dreams

Island retreats, private flights

Over tiny dots below, one ship

Covered in white and bleeding ink

Set alight by those above

Begins to sink.



© Copyright David Marriott  all rights reserved­.