Jupiter 700

Your isolation could be worse

Time vanished like a podcast curse

To live the life I feel and trust

A smashed up Jupiter’s core of rust

Dragged by your magnetic pull

Sucked back into Earths brutal prison rules


I listen to your scant emotions

When I could be in your awesome kitchens

With the piles of dope and the tins of booze

The devil’s whispered voice will make you choose


Flowing currents craze your mindful balance

Stimulated to accept your tired talents

So bound up with ropes and chains

Children wired on sugar in their brains

Like a speeding bullet down the Watford Gap

Whizzing headlong into a trap


©  Sean P. Ransom  27/3/2020