Bakelite

We’re telling you things can get better,

that there is no need to worry. Because

you are not the maker of these days

and neither are we. And if push came to shove

we will stop the above clichés right now and

change this station by thought alone.

We can play you the music worth dancing to

whilst time tricks to click you backwards and

forwards, with its mission to stop and devour

your hours. There are no commercials here,

baying you to buy unhappiness for a lived

life and a miserable death, in front of those

who will only suffer the same malady, then the

paleness of a too late impossible epiphany. We can

hold you, love you, feed you the poetry that you’ll

swallow in your slumber, reverse this screw to get

you through untwisted, live with grace and pass that grace

on to the conflicted. We are not gods, just reasons, but our

batteries are running down to silence. So pull away from

your screen, phone, desk, this illness. For you are slaves.