Tried hard to say something nice
about the World last night, even
went to lengths to tell the whole
& glory-be-to-godforsaken truth;
I failed – it was to be expected.
My mind was in another place,
another time. I grappled with a
graceless sense of uselessness,
the advent of ennui meant to
pierce the drought and bring the
barren days to end. I sailed into
today as aimlessly as when I set
the helm, rigged a sheet to catch
a fractious wind and went to sleep
to dream of sweet and endless
effervescent nothingness.
© 13 October 2007, I. D. Carswell
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