The pub was noisy, a debate raging over how the
world would end, the degree of inebriation deciding
the vector of war, of climate, of pestilence, of broken
supply-chains. The more grotesque the imagined
dystopia, the more reason there was to drink. The
world-order won’t change tomorrow, someone said,
but you will wake up one morning and the couches
and chairs would have turned away from the
TV to take in an alternate reality. She giggled
and shifted around, seeing, as if for the first time,
the rest of the bar. He sat in a corner, typing steadily,
looking in their direction from time to time. She
walked up, the question obvious. He shrugged.
Yesterday’s arguments were more interesting, he
said. A lot more technical. Also someone choked
on a fish bone. Imagine that, a man almost died.
Now we have to figure our whether alternate reality mirrors fake news. I’ll ponder that over some Irish whiskey!
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Oh yes.. cheers! 🙂
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😄
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Bars and pubs and drinking are a great source of inspiration for writing.
your poem reads like frames from a film noir
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Thanks so much 🙂 Glad you liked it.
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If I had read this 10 years ago, I would’ve probably thought, Stream of consciousness, or experimental…. It’s a bit scary that reading it today, I can picture it happening in any bar. Dystopia… all over.
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Thank you, Magaly. Or if you extrapolate ..happening all over the internet, narratives getting framed and reframed, while people continue to die.
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Sigh.
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Yours is one of the most intriguing poems I’ve read in many a moon ….. cheers and brava!
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Thanks for stopping by, Helen. I hope ‘intriguing’ is a good thing for a poem!!!! 🙂 🙂
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… it is!
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I rode by a sign in someone yard yesterday that read simply “dystopia” with an American flag next to it. I had to wonder whether it was fake news dystopia or dystopia because of the fake news-ers.
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Seriously and it is becoming harder to tell the difference. Each person ultimately lives in the bubble of the news they want to read or hear… alternate realities.
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“Funny … kind of dark’. Yes, that final sentence which you put into the man’s mouth is very ironic. In a way, so is the whole concept of the observer deciding which evening is the more entertaining. Meanwhile, it may be time to pour myself a drink….
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Cheers! Need that drink to escape from all the frivolous discussions and conclusions, the endless shaping of the narrative to suit one’s own world view. Meanwhile, people are dying.
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Funny
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🙂 Wasn’t the intention, but if you sensed humour in it, I’d love to know your interpretation. Always interesting to know how readers interpret a poem. Thanks so much for stopping by.
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I meant kind of dark. It is very difficult to sometimes explain what one feels when reading something, especially, poetry. There is an element of humour lurking there somewhere. May be I am seeing things wrong. But that was my first impression.
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There is no wrong or right, you’re absolutely correct that it is a function of when a person reads it and in what frame of mind, that can change what comes across! I am not always sure where a poem comes from, so am sure there isn’t one interpretation. That is what makes poetry itself so beautiful. Appreciate you explaining to me..thank you so much.
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