I finished breakfast, having had enough.
And slid the bowl and muesli grouping
a little away, in sign. It was a
minute or two before it trickled
through, what Iíd had enough of: the vicious
turns of events laid out, laying waste
longstanding hope across the world. Events
which in worst case after case had boiled up
on each other and overshat the limits
of stimulus, readership, news.
I resumed breakfast, print nourishment
taken (inseparable) with it again -
or a craven sullen no platform
newsless surface (canít remember which) -
the milk level in the translucent plastic
clear on the point, I had not had enough.