You jump at chancy Snapchat

possibilities, your suitcase eyes
looking better beneath the third

filter. You’re sitting here with
technology’s slouch, sinking

further into the selfworld 
imagining a terrifying flightpath

from London to Kuala Lumpur
to anywhere really. ‘Be yourself,

Everyone else is already broken.’
At least that is what you intuit through

this cracked screen, apps scattered
across it like Bondi Beach’s littered

surface on Australia Day, the sky
described as azure by the pen

of the fabulist, by the massive finger 
swiping right on more brilliant weather

ahead. So scroll down bright sunshine;
imagine me with wallet hands,

just dispensing money and cheap-grace.
Imagine me as the drunk, punching

his PIN into a macca’s EFTPOS machine
before declaring, ‘Cheeseburgers for all!’

And much later remind me to lawyer-
up when the city finally dissolves

into fine print, books a trial date, 
tables itself as solid evidence.

New brief in these days of peril.