Unreflective Life from Western Culture by Kiran Leonard

(the) switch steams, the circuit’s dead;
his head is a silhouette
idling, a study robbed of speech.
He slowly unfolds; vapour moon
approaching wide, quiet release,
banishing dark plumes
(the damaging that he can’t describe)

The deluge of wrong events
gave way to a reticence;
the fugal chaos
of voices saying ‘no’
ravaging souls thought to have found hope
in vocal light, words of ease…
Wholly immersed, escaping like a cloud to our eyes,
his waking embers derealised, he suddenly let go.

It is too much for him;
reflective life makes him feel pathetic,
like a veil (ad)dressing a storm,
or a teething dramatic, without recourse
(to run away… accept malaise…)
Is it not enough to sigh and separate yourself
from each wire ringing with blame?
Assume it’s you; don’t exhume
(you’ll be happier)

And gentlemen
of rage and terror, I know
there’s fear in change;
in fading image, I know,
but stem duress,
your greedy enemy ghosts;
let gentleness
surround and soften (I know);
let spires of light
impress your vanishing sight,
as fellows, through smoke,
approach your weathering eyes.
We are tethered and spent,
spinning into the arms,
of a quiet inside,
or a screaming antidote.

To all terrible creatures armed with your steak knives:
do you think that you know what we are?
To all famines dressed as teachers, conjuring respite:
do you think we don’t know what you are?

But then again,
the crooks’ deafening blow;
the cracks within
the mirror joining our lives;
the broken pane
reflects innumerable lines,
we become overwhelmed.

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• United Kingdom