When Presidents lie through the gaps in their teeth
and what was above is now lying beneath,
when you’re anxious for truth and are vexed about death –
return to the breath.

When airtime’s usurped by political whims
and lenses zoom-in upon car bombs and limbs;
when the facts read much more like the plot of Macbeth –
return to the breath.

When the world stage is shaken by missiles and storms
and nations surrender to populist norms,
though drugs might appeal… don’t go turning to meth –
return to the breath.

When ‘having opinions’ presides over proof
and half of the news was made up on the hoof,
you might well attend to the old shibboleth –
return to the breath.

Andy Brown
Illustration Nick Victor

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