Apathy International Poem by Nicolette Turner

I am a member of
Apathy International.
I am working my way up the company
and should shortly become
a bored member.

Membership was free
and just slipped onto my shoulders
during a raging storm,
like a comfortable old raincoat.

The effects are almost unnoticeable
as is everything else now
and, as in such a large organisation,
only non members receive any active attention
I fully expect to disappear completely and painlessly any day now
which I really can’t worry about.

I have heard a rumour that by 2010
all non members
will have been tortured and then exterminated;
which, though unfortunate, is, I am assured, nothing to do with me.

But late at night I worry.
I wake up
terrified
as a distant but unfiltered image of raw gaping wounds stabs me
and I can hear the hideous cackle of the devil’s favourite shareholders
and I recognise the voice of our beloved CEO crooning
and I think I might implode with panic.

But in the grey reasoned morning light
I think –
what could I do anyway?
Nothing.
So I don’t
except to gently fondle my membership badge.