'Normality' or 'post-riot commute'

Packed in, suspicious but unsure:

the smasher and sweepers;

the igniters and dousers;

the displacers and displaced,

all confused about the week

of unbounded greed

and how the familiarity of commute

dulls emotion from the memory

of raging riotous streets.

Back to the amnesia 'normality' of

bubbling oils

waiting for another spark.

Where the proletariate

subconscious philosophy is

that satisfaction is both

a basic human right

and completely unattainable

and contentment in now is

an abhorrent insult,

and all ambition is

filling the gaps in the mirror's foreground

with empty plastic.

'Normality' of incubation

of a bacteria that eats foresight

and excretes lack upon lack,

and the kinetic chaos was this;

merely the poorer outliving

the conclusion of opportunistic capitalism

blatant, because it is more obvious

and less dignified than the

thievery of the wealthy.

After lust of nothing-things

and the violence of attempted justifications

no hungry now has food,

no deprived is now contented,

no class line is now demolished...

only struggling economy stretched further,

only national shame,

only poignant reminder of the

reality of discontent

and a picture of the principles of

a society of me,

and another masked figure

upon which blame can

officially being

whilst this symptom is labelled a disease.

A reflection, looking back at the recent riots from a place of relative comfort.

Written 31/08/11