what is happening?

what is happening when nothing is happening?—
the brickwork is shifting, a millimetre back and forth
wall cavities are breathing
pipe-work fidgets until it's comfortable

populations are starving
generals discuss their unsuccessful brutalities
babies drowse into their mothers cuddles
or their premature deaths

bombers are praying
lovers are saying ‘i love you' and ‘i'll be gone before
dawn draws its breath'


what is happening, while you're sunk in a chair
beyond the vast, vague world?—


committees are convening
animals are laying down after the kill

bread-queues are assembling
actors are dissembling
infants absorb a new kind of poison
revellers are planning their next crack

the internet is boiling
languages are dying
new technologies are conceived