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    Pretend Pleasures
  by Sam Freek


 Emptiness is broken by a potato in the microwave which recites a sonnet by Shakespeare every 39 minutes
I am encompassed by the sounds of industry from pretty boy blue
Sparkling flakes dance around yelling obscenities at whats to come
Norman brushes down his donkey jacket from his last general NUM meeting
Cycles of energy re-route to the mainstream of life
Communication is in overdrive caused by bureaucratic outcomes
I tip toe across the familiar only to be seen by the five fingered snake with a glass back
Two suspended hearts permeate the street lit amber glow at dusk
Nothing to be seen here shouts the man in charge of the tiny man hole filled with an endless stream of white noise

Increase the volume so I can hear the monthly chattering of old hens teeth
There is no atmosphere
Pretend pleasures arise as I remove all labels whilst staring into your inwardly moving mind storm

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