My neighbour has started his tractor
diesel fume wafts through the open kitchen window.
On his way to plough the field across the road,
dark furrows in damp soil,
birds sit in trees read the upturned soil for tidbits.
My neighbour doesn’t read has no computer,
and give damn about wikileaks;
evenings he and his wife sit in their kitchen and watch soaps,
news is too boring.
Me, I’m amazed the stupidity of the unscripted soap news is,
this struggle for dominance,
making friends with vile dictators
in the hope of landing a fat military contract
selling hardware and to have a base
so they can keep an eye on the opposition.
Winner and losers in a mortal dance
embraced by phony friendship.
And when a tyrant goes against our interest
we kill him off
and look for one who can do our bidding.
What the people want is banalities
such as peace and democracy,
but that’s too bothersome.
My neighbour knows this and
Lets birds fight amongst themselves
over title tattles and succulent worms.
