newly new

in our ironic-post-ironic show room homes
hand picked from a catalogue
of identikit tap fixtures
with exotic sounding names
(am i rustic-contemporary or minimal-bucolic?)
window panes, double glazed,
seal us from the maelstrom
mentality of modern man
the sound of traffic.

we’re post everything these days
crafting detachment with a knowing grin

so it goes.

the woods are distressed
our blank slates are being used
as cheese boards
everything is boring
everyone is passé
politicians are recycling
faces and fist pumped clichés
everyone is younger than they thought they were
but older than they look
(will you look at me?)
the shop fronts shine with halogen bulbs
our halcyon days

nostalgia is the note to hit
a retro vintage sepia tone
gift wrapped
looks fabulous against the off white
papering the walls
(was that crack always there?
maybe i never noticed)
the days have a habit
of creeping up on you
is that a new thing
just picked up?
the calendar alternates vistas of snowcapped mountains
with white sand strands
in winter
and summer, respectively
(there was one autumn month with a desert dune
but that was the anomaly
to prove the rule)

tomorrow i might change my screensaver
to a rustic-bucolic view.


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