Like Brigette, wearing a hand-knit
Bollix to Brexit beanie,
doctorate in her back pocket,
told she is over-qualified
by a clerk in a pair of winkle pickers.
Brigitte thinks he is over-dressed.
And Gareth, in his Just Do It runners,
whose Senior Project Manager
views him as over-empathetic,
tells him he needs to be more detached
from the six-year-old who tries to hide
from poverty, under a pool table,
his eyes emptier than dinner plates.
And Finn, who doesn’t need to act,
so over-wrought by grim thoughts
of another precious life lost
to Capita’s conscious cruelty.
And Mary, who is over-critical
of the small fact that 8000 people
are waiting for an appeal;
she thinks its indefensible.
And Flair, highly over-reactive,
insists on bringing up our dead
at the Christmas dinner table
gets on like a Brazilian bishop
asking awkward questions, like
Why are they poor?
And Bertie, who over-simplifies
complex policy decisions,
talks of Beveridge’s vision,
says the clue’s in the name –
‘Social Security.’
Towser thumps his tail twice.
And Maria - seriously over-invested
in celebrating the innate good in
working class neighbourhoods;
knows that context counts for a lot.
And Nuala, over-idealistic,
likes to keep her powder dry
smile her wry smile at power
till she makes them wobble
on one leg.

Over-involved
every single one of them,
in the lives of others
they have never met.