Ataraxia by Ross Walsh

Perhaps I should meditate

beneath a tree and wonder

why I suffer. Why exhaust

fumes fill my brain and leave me

spluttering. Why my fingers

dig with waning keystrokes through

an avalanche of icy

e-mails. Why I wake up each

morning to the regrets of

HR Administrators

who were very impressed with

me but decided to go

in another direction.

The black gold, served hot in my

mug, is running out faster

than the black gold powering

the world, and neither of us

has invested enough in

an alternative. My strength

for this routine is failing,

and even the smallest piece

of peace seems beyond my reach.

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Ross Walsh [he/him/sé/é] is a Wexford-born journalist and writer based in Dublin, Ireland. He has written for The Irish Times and Al Jazeera, and his creative work has previously been published in several anthologies and magazines. He can be found on Twitter at @RossWalshJourno