It's Still Life

Once Upon 200 Moons

it’s all to play for,
Boris,
kipper-brandishing,
from a farm in Somerset.
He will love bomb us
with hanging baskets,
and milkshake tax plans,
turn on the spending taps
on the hottest day ever recorded,
and find Amelia Earhart.

Truth is an art.

This is a Found poem constructed entirely from news app notifications on my phone during 24 July/19. Prompts: Miz Quickly’s 24 July and Twiglet #136 ©️ Misky 2019