The free are seen every day, hidden only by last years drab.
Backgrounders; talking, playing, sitting almost off camera.
An underground of conscientious objectors; questioning.

ii
Tonight the voices of a million families raise in hilarity
as Bob’s futile levering with an old broom handle,
bursts the dead moose that has jammed in his rain gutter.

Four million pairs of eyes check the picture-in-picture display
of their patented intelligent anti-moose guttering system.
No moose has entered any gutter in 84 days of operation.

Tonight’s happiness: knowing that the smell of a rotting
dead moose won’t make them miss their shows or put them
off their micro-waved low fat cheese favoured nacho bucket.
iii
Creating the White Dot is easy; just point and click.
Within reach of everyone; but out of their line of sight.
A real alternative choice, maybe three paces away.

Stand up, walk forward and hit the switch. As the
crackling fades; go outside, into a different state of mind.
Your mind. One of us will make eye contact with you.

It’s dark, it’s after ten PM
and my door bell rings.
Local kids are bored again.
Playing “knock and run”.
But without any actual running.

Again with the ding-dong.
Trouble is no one talks to kids.
I’ve seen “them hooded tops”
on Music Television at the pub.
I’ve listened to how they talk.

As I zip up my cardigan
It goes a third time. Persistent.
Very well, I shall answer them.
Flinging the door wide I shout
“So, where’s the beef, mobo?”

I look into each hood in turn.
Half a dozen blank faces.
Then one, a young girl (I think),
Says “Laterz Grandpa” and
They all move off laughing.

Smiling with my success,
I shout after them (as they do)
“That’s large, moobs!”
And then close my door.
You’ve just got to speak their language.

- o O o -

This was inspired by, and written for the Ad Lib Group Writing Project run by Randa Clay.