Every Morning

Every Morning Wading through complexity, noises a cacophony Voices vie for supremacy, inner children, DJs at quiztime A diabolical party, leaving you no time to think If even thinking would help. Helpless, floating

The Shape Of The Thing

The shape of the thing Mysterious, and Not quite opaque Inscrutable, bland Yet calling, as if A voice from afar Its outline may shimmer Unconfident, shaking But still, it pervades With consciousness clouded

Benefit Of The Doubt

Perhaps, he thought I ought To give these mushrooms The benefit Of the doubt. 4 December 2021

Was It Worth It

Was It Worth It Was it worth it? That ill-begotten, grabbed gain, Really, was it worth the pain? A moment of pleasure, toward buried treasure But: taken not earned, a life upturned Following