mrbonos.org

Commute.
Each morning we see
the refugees who flee
their warm, comforting homes
for stress filled biomes

Like zombies they press
into the metal worm’s recess
to end up in their cubicles
disgorging pointless articles
and we wonder why they’re depressed

What an existence we’ve built.

Intelligent life? I might refute.



Supermarket Sisyphus.
the uncle down at the Fairprice
sets about his Sisyphean task
pushing shopping carts can’t be nice
but to him it’s not too much to ask

he hauls trains of trollies up the floors
past glassy eyed shoppers trundling through the doors;
who having forgotten the proper use of hands;
push their scantily filled carts,
and merrily descend.



spreadsheet.
enter into my cell
fall deep into the well
you have the formulas
to vlookup through my mess
through the data amular
using pivots to assess
filtering through the rows
to undo all the mess
wielding all your macros
slicing through the chaos
until you realise what’s yours



rain.
I hate the rain the tunnels are strained as people surge and strain my angst beyond explain my senses overloaded with pain as the air is stained with cacophony like trains 

i would surrender my gains without complaints just to have this wane



Trace.
embrace the gaze that caresses your face at every single place, there’s no need to brace nor cover with lace nor descend into unwarranted craze, anonymity is such a waste, your life is filled with grace cleared from haze and saved from daze

when big brother’s had a taste