octagon

there are eight flies sitting on my wall

i just see them, they see it all

forming an octagon above my head

not a bit of them moves, they just sit there in dread

cause if even a bit moved of just one insect

it would cause what they call a knock-on effect

movement, frenzy, disorganisation

the downfall of a bug-eyed nation

this house too has that octagon shape

we all sit in our rooms, restless and awake

listening for the sound of an opening door

or that of a body dropping to the floor

number 29

yellow poles in buses

like nicotine stained arteries

old lady sighs and fusses

the herd emits a giant sneeze

bacteria are shooting

from rough-rimmed nostrils into air

but where's the notice stating:

impending illness- please beware

a polish looking passenger

wrapped in coat of anonymous bliss

has opted for a london life

and london life consists of this:

dull grey hair

laden eyes

running nose

and her thighs

shaking feverishly in boots

as she shoots

daggers

to those who look

she's an open book

anonymous but you're the crowd

the crowd is ill and you are proud