The hounding to death of Caroline Flack (poem)

I picture your ammonite bones
curled shield maiden slain
raindrops can sound like stones
sticks and stones have no refrain.

I picture your phone Instagram warm with pings
your cold body, warm baby eyes
the shrapnel of a troll then a bluebird sings
tweeting crow today she dies.

I picture an under-sheet moulded from your slumber,
did you choose to be deaths valentine?
An island without latitude, number or line?

I am talking about the hounding to death of Caroline Flack
the red badged news and the pack and the pack.
I am talking about trolls and the armchair jurors
I am taking about hate island and the online Fuhrer’s

We need to talk about the hounding to death of Caroline Flack
and how pigs turn on wolves who stray from the pack.
We need to talk about the ending of life that cannot come back.
We need to talk about the death of Caroline Flack.

abandoned alone blond building

Photo by Rene Asmussen on Pexels.com

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