whole days spent looking downwards, inwards at times
counting hours upon hours of before the night commences and communications settle into muted-ness,
sparse bedside illuminations.
whereas elsewhere wealth breeds wealth
children at the helm of matte-painted hooded herds –
never to know the discomfort of effort.
I haven’t thought of ways to escape per se
only disappearance schemes, futile,
ways to slip into anonymity meaningfully but silently,
preferably across an ocean or two.
I know there’s a world out there – I’ve seen it
but walking in the cold considering tomorrow
it all faints, muddles. here. there.