Blue Glow, Dust Dance

The famine numbers scroll, a steady beat,

then cut to sparkling water, pure and neat.

My eyes just watch, don't register the pain,

a dull ache sitting in my skull, again.

The blue light flickers, ghosts across the room,

illuminates the dust motes in the gloom.

A half-eaten bag of chips, a greasy trace,

no feeling left upon my tired face.

The world burns down, and then a better rinse,

my mind just takes it, no defense.

The drone of voices, urgent, then serene,

just static humming through the wired screen.