The Dinner Table

The Dinner Table

Join us for dinner at our Blackwood table,

Where fine wines are drunk

And rich meats are chewed.

We’ll all sit comfortably

And watch today’s news.

Channel two

Rockets fired overseas.

Sit down and relax,

These are conspiracies— not facts.

This is not your

                          Tragedy.

It’s not worth your

                           Sanity.

Channel three—

Streets littered with bodies.

Chained to the remains

Of children who came out to play—

Innocent souls, blasted away.

“Turn off the news.”

“How was your day?”

“Great, and you?”

—At their blissful table,

They all drink and chew.