The Game Of The Citizen - Poem by Chloe Meakin
Two things moving, then people walking down the street.
One person shouting. Two things moving in the corner of my eye.
I’m a little bit in orbit, a little bit apart.
A little bit of me’s lobotomised.
Don’t you see? I’m barely me.
I’m a little bit cross-legged and serene.
Two people ignoring me, one calling out.
Yes sir, that’s me. I wish you could remember me.
Two children with a football, and a cat, just passing by.
Two cars and something with wheels.
A pram or a suitcase?
Ah but isn’t that always the question for me?
Isn’t that exactly what I mean?
I think a little bit of me’s got glass for eyes,
And I think something covered up my ears with headphones,
plugged me in.
I’m sure that someone’s wrapped my skin in cling film,
And that someone’s bundled me away.
I’m not here. I think you know that.
Where I was there’s only watches ticking by the mirror,
Watches ticking on my wrists. Here there’s only shoes,
A bag, a hair band, here there’s just a coat and socks.
I think I might be damned.
I see two windows and a satellite dish,
And some kid shouting something bad from far beyond,
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