DON'T THINK

I pull on my socks and

Think of a Victorian electroplated

Sauceboat, with four little feet

Crafted to look like the paws of a beast.

I brush my teeth and

Watch a vortex suck debris down a plughole.

I blow my nose and

Ideas flee from me like herbivores,

That catch the scent of a meat-eating beast.

I see them poised for a split second,

Then they run.

I try, unsuccessfully, to call them back.

Because I’d rather think of anything than

New born babies swaddled in blankets and foil,

Lying in no manger

But on a hospital floor

Waiting to die,

In Gaza.