Facebook, overnight, post-bagged snarl:
She, swimsuit-sat, on dolphin, ‘so cruel’:
Held it from water, until it drowned;
we sucked-dry its soul, re-tweeted around.
More concerned cries, over the death of a thing:
As kids ‘cross la Manche, wait, suffocating.
Jungle slow-cleared, raked-over soil,
lost, infected youth, truth’s grey voile.
Les enfants want lives, to make it across,
but may drown in the camps, more un-figured loss.
When war-blown minors are once given hope,
they too will suck life, from freedom’s throat.
This day: not one child will be dragged from hell,
instead we will shame ‘the fish-riding girl’.