Involution
In the early mornings
when the world sleeps
we stretch the thin membrane
hiding our sneering beast
from a world of ironed shirts.
Territorial claims at the bus stop.
An unaware prey (still sleeping),
is awoken by a hyenas’ mad stare.
The bus driver, half pig,
greets all and no one with grunts.
He is on schedule but actually never left the station.
The metro is buzzing:
everyone is collecting nectar
for the sacred weekends.
And when the grasshoppers awake
later in the day,
Ironed shirts rule once more.
Only the occasional ragged dogs
rummage through the garbage
in search after some spilled honey.
The Invisible Hand
Move along and continue to consume.
There´re still people over there to impress.
Never mind the elephant in the room.
New cars, jewelry, champagne and perfume –
Adopt the lifestyle and scent of success.
Move along and continue to consume.
There is no dusty scheme to exhume.
The wheels must turn to create progress.
Never mind the elephant in the room.
Dampen angst, down to a moan, and resume
The search for solace with food in excess.
Move along and continue to consume.
Limping charts and numbers reeking of gloom.
Suppress, forget and invent things to possess.
Never mind the elephant in the room.
There’s a dead emperor and no costume.
Calm down people, there´s no need for distress.
Move along and continue to consume.
Never mind the elephant in the room.
Mattias Renberg lives in Stockholm, Sweden. He has studied creative writing in both English and Swedish. He has previously been published in Over Yonder, an anthology by Rofous Press.
