Compassion Fatigue

I've got no interest in bungeejumping.
I've got no interest in seeing Venice.
I've got no interest in niteclubbing.
& I must be in zen coz I don't care 
        what zen is.

I've got no interest in winning Euromillions.
I've got no interest in what the Donald said next.
I've got no interest in signing another e-petition.
Or why Sleb Y slighted Sleb X.

I've got no interest in New Yoik in the spring.
I've got no interest in Rothschilds' Beelzebunce.
I've got no interest in silly season 2nd Coming
- you wait ages for 1, then 3 messiahs 
        arrive at once!

I've got no interest in bumblebee extinction.
I've got no interest in major sporting events.
I've got no interest in twitterstorm friction.
Or infomercials on how to get hench.

Got no interest in batrachomyomachia
(or in proxy batrachomyomachia
between Frog League's galanty spider army
& mice-trained & funded earwig insurgency).

Who'll win Strictly, who'll win Syria?
What really goes down in the Ministry 
        of the Interior?
Does myriad of Miriams mean the more the myria?
Will readers ever eyebibe my biblia abiblia?

Apathy? Yeah. No. Me?
Does Ray Mears shit in the woods?
2 fingers 'stead of 2 hoots. Is oldschooltie
of Pope Emeritus Devil Dog the Hitler Youth?

Like comeback cul-de-sac of Sigue Sigue
Sputnik or Gay Dad, conclusion's foregone.
From all our globallocks, I infer good Earth stravaiged,
testicularcancer twin planet to us abandoned,

but when it comes to thinking 'bout anything but my baby...
Now Marvin's murdered by me more than 3rd rock solid
with mine, confirming findings of 2010 survey
that Britons happiest with their lot are found in Norwich,

pigging out on pizza in front of the idiotbox
with their S.O. Shockingly desensitised now my
stake in humanity is love's primecut: a paradox.
Lovely tunnelvision, schmaltzy oblivion, hormonal
            co-dependency,

Eros & Thanatos sitting in a tree...
Or in echo chamber built for two, echochambermaid
                Aphrodite.
Unobvs reverb of sweet nothings' honeydripping nihilism
of countless folies a deux virgule quatre: atomisation.

Before domestic bliss cult of mutual monomania
decrees we lovers shrug our heartshaped shoulders
& to lotus loop of googooeyes retire couple-cloistered,
I'll vote Green, do the grit one more favour.