TROTTER

Trotter devours the succulent steak on his plate
One of his cravings satisfied, he’s in a self-indulgent state
Has an appetite for more, eats up the night, guzzles gas in his Scooby Doo
Drives through the city, to a club, for neon entertainment in super stereo
Occupies his usual balcony, taking small sips of Pina Colada
Drinks in the delights of dancing girls, sings along to Lady Gaga
Trotter taps a toe, stylish in his designer Italian moccasins
Handcrafted by skilled artisans using triple layered calf skins
An atmosphere so electric – simmering, steamy energy
At the end of the club night, Trotter goes home alone in the Scooby
Wakes up next day in his own company. Comfortable isolation
Boots up his laptop, fires up his coffee maker, switches on the television
Checks his mobile phone for messages, there’s a text from an airline
He puts the phone on charge then turns on the grill to cook rashers of swine
When they’re ready, he throws them into a thickly buttered crusty baguette
Impulse informs him to be somewhere hot, he hungers for golden sunsets
His walk in wardrobe has a range of luxurious, imported fine clothing
A suitcase is packed, he’s dressed, passport in pocket, a plane is waiting

Tells a terrible joke at the check in desk, one that should never be recycled
Wanders through duty free shops, admires the gifts, exquisitely packaged
Trotter buys magazines at a news stand, to alleviate his aching boredom
Flicks through, studies images of floods in Peru, then he simply dumps them
Orders a burger from a kiosk. It arrives in a box, wrapped in crinkly paper
Pours milkshake down his dried up throat, from a disposable plastic beaker
The table at the burger stand is strewn with rubbish, it’s obnoxiously stinky
He considers complaining, but visits the lounge bar instead, for a little drinky
When Trotter travels alone, he finds gin and tonic the perfect companion
Swimming in a clear blue sea, enjoying the facilities of a man made resort
Civilisation at its best, where the fine things in life can easily be bought
His plane touches down, he leaps on a bus, a short ride to an ocean paradise
A memory surfaces, he recalls the Peruvian floods, Mother Nature’s malice
Arrives at a five star hotel, checks in, it’s a fabulous choice of holiday home
Built on green fields where not so long ago, mountain goats were free to roam
A large picture window gives him a wonderful view of a sun-kissed horizon
Fishermen confined to a corner of the bay, pushed aside by a tourist invasion

Palm trees sway in the breeze, punctuate the poolside, positioned perfectly
Trotter sips a cocktail, eager to enjoy himself, planted at the bar permanently
Sun gods and goddesses glisten as they fry themselves at the side of the pool
While in African provinces, rivers run dry, and the searing heat can be cruel
If those sun worshippers needed to walk miles for a bucketful of dirty water
They’d hire lawyers to sue for millions. There would be corporate slaughter
He considers himself lucky to be from the west where wallets can be fattened
The global market overflows with money: London, Tokyo, Manhattan
But when storms become savage, no amount of money can fix the wreckage
He watches news on a poolside television, a tsunami causing lethal damage
At the request of another guest, a waiter switches channels to a music station
A televised catastrophe is not what tourists want to see when on vacation
Trotter erupts, a volcano awakening, he says, ‘Hey! I was watching the news!’
Jumps down from his bar stool, a bomb blast in beach shorts, a burning fuse
The guest shrugs, and replies, ‘We all just want to hear some music.’
Trotter’s rage dies, he sits down, he should be chilling, shaking off the static
Maybe there’s nothing he can do about the horrors of natural devastation
Picks up his mobile, finds a relief fund website, makes a generous donation