it is
hard to
carry on
with this writing game
when i could fall face down
carry on
with this writing game
when i could fall face down
all over the floor instead
& cling to the edges of the rug
swamped by the useless raving
swamped by the useless raving
of all the trying things
& the iron & blue & dusty jewel
that is our constant moon
is gradually backing away
& i cant blame them
~
& on the tightrope
over the panic net
i am trying not to happen at all
& trying to be like bracken or moss
like deadfall or a railway sleeper
but i do get up again
for my meatsock needs
& i see a bird in the garden
all the colours of oil
all the colours of oil
& i get on with it again
with writing this down
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