Make Believe

Unwilling suspension of disbelief

Make Believe

Another body is found
on disused ground 
beyond the railway sidings.
It has been disposed with artistry
to enhance the drama of the scene
with gritty unreality,
terrified eyes frozen wide
but lips closed in a parody
of dignity in fictional death.
Why is the jaw not slack,
the mouth not left agape
from the last escape of breath?

I have seen enough.

I could fold laundry instead,
smooth the fabrics that usually hug
the warm bodies I love.
I could boil tomorrow’s eggs,
pack the lunchboxes before bed
to save a morning rush.
I could write lists, plan ahead
the tasks that make small differences,
the unnoticed stuff

but to stand up now and leave the room
would interrupt a narrative,
disrupt our lazy comfort.
So I slouch into the sofa cushions,
press my own OFF button
and leave the TV on.