Wounded animal

 

‘Mankind’s a wounded animal!’

The voice of the columnist boomed.

As though his mansion dripped with blood,

While a hungry predator loomed.

 

Down his way, though, mankind survives.

The van, sanitized, delivers

Deep-cleaned excitement on a plate.

Summertime: nobody shivers.

 

The odd spark flies and tempers fray,

But daily jogging keeps all trim.

Unspent emotions soak up screens;

Fine crystal clinks, filled to the brim.

 

What’s gone? Faux-chic gobby dining

At tables squeezed an inch apart.

A freebie flight to sun-kissed isles,

Group chatter on the price of art.