Prophetic Desolation

When the world is stripped of uses
tomorrow wake and find
a fate with no excuses
a past you can’t rewind.

Forget those lapping waters
that island in your mind
for ignorance is golden
(but resale value is unkind).

Breathe in dust
Skin, nails, rust
stagger on
remember us.

You did just what
you had to do
you could do no other
you you you.

And nothing
And nothing
And silence in the wilderness.

Is this the end?
(this is the start)
this act’s unwritten
live your part.


Sugar Rush

This morning I was pouring sugar from its bag into a bowl that we store it in and I was struck by the sensation of it all.  That movement, the granular rush, the flow, I couldn’t help but be reminded of an hourglass.  The slip of moments, seconds, minutes, time, passing away, drawing me forwards, ever closer to that inevitability – type 2 diabetes.