I turn my back on killings and maimings
invasions and corruptions
recessions and depressions.

I turn my back on the evening news

leave the living-room  
escape to my books
where I bury my head.

Yet I listen to news, read papers and journals
make my own pictures of turmoil   until
the optimist in me quails

folds her eyes shut, covers her ears
commands me to bury my head
in my books.

© Liz McQuilkin

Peter Macrow,
Tasmanian Times Poetry Editor.
Tasmanian poets or those with a Tasmanian link are invited to send up to 5 poems which have not appeared previously in print or electronic media to:
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For the complete collection, click here: Poetry, Peter Macrow


Call me a coward, I’d rather not watch
visuals of violence, dispatches of sadness.