Flitter (poem)

By Luke Labern

When wracked with pain, when
Fear pinces
                   and reduces us into child-like claustrophobia,
All we ask for is health, time and sanity.
But when life is smooth, what follows?

Don't lie to me. Or more importantly, yourself: be honest.
Boredom. Ennui. Dissatisfaction.
Who'd rather be a straight line than a spiral?
Who'd rather be 'nice', and 'well', than viral?

Now bred to do too many things at once
There's no doubt monogamy's in vein --
We flitter
                 like lovestruck moths to a flourescent bulb
Only to fly too close, and, burnt, we ask:
                 Why am I a moth?

No -- we ask why we are doomed either to
Heartbreak
                    Or boredom.
                                          And I am left to ask:
Which is worse?