'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

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