It's Still Life

I.
Deconstructing News

It was not one of those
glorious mornings where
you sit on the terrace.
A coffee. A view. A garden.

Not a compact breakfast
on a fine filigree table,
’cause newspapers blazed
with war and decline,

withdrawal and poverty
and hunger, and I wondered
how the world had fallen
into such disarray, when

I’d done nothing
but hold my tongue

II.
Chasing the Sun

He said he swam against the devil,
defied his body not to sink
into the Mediterranean.
Said the sunset saved them all;

the sea was on fire all day —
the heat, the heat, he said.
We swam for the sun as it set.
And the boat sank like an old hole.

Suicide, is what we all thought,
but all we wanted was to live.
A new life. And maybe survive.
He drew silent after that —

waited for the night to swallow
his thoughts into dark silence.

Day 21: For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt: Write a construction poem. Construction paper, construction hats, and so on.
Write a deconstruction poem. Opposite of construction poem.