There are some who read signs
of doom in acts of men and plan their defences:
believe in barbed wire constructs
but ignore the flood waters spilling through cracks
in the pavement beneath their own feet.
We are all burn victims
picking over the crumbling edges of our rubble.
We clutch at love, perhaps, a last straw
but dine on offal in the meantime because today
might be lacking in personal redemption.
Somewhere in this city, the last man awake
stares blankly at a mute screen: his feed has died
and he suffers the immediacy
of his own tragic company too susceptible to darkness
and chooses to fall upon his broken sword.
Children should be taught to swim.
Nakedness is its own protection; hold a magic lantern
to a mirror and step into your own being.
Yes, the truth, as we know it, has been shot from the sky:
Salvage the shards without cutting your fingers.
I find much inspiration in the results of photographic competitions, notably that of International Photographer of the Year and the Street Photography Competition run by Lens Culture. As all material is under copyright, I have not included one with this post, but encourage your perusal of the links provided.