30 October 2013

Holes In My Thinking




Awakened at 2:30 am by a presence which 
usurps precedent, infiltrates magnanimous 
hands where they trend naturally - and told 
to sleep. My attention thus gained, tactfully 
and supposedly in keeping with things that 
matter to women - like invisible strings you 
sense after tension plays the correct note, 
you’re interrogated 

You observe bravely, there’s nothing subtle 
here, this is manipulative behaviour, a tree
full of Cockatoos behaving badly - and she 
agrees; I need reassurance we have future 
plans she says, loose ends plague present 
intentions rather gravely 

Metaphorical you suggest, a past’s interred 
where you want to be; there’s a tonal beep 
interrupt to sleep intermission, coffee break 
she says, we’ll continue later, I gladly hear 
words I listen for aren’t needed to clear the 
impasse of just whose responsibility this is 

Perhaps it’s merely a need for new glasses, 
or a different viewpoint, bit like my hearing I 
say facetiously; she demurs, you’re okay as 
long as you’re listening to what you want to 
hear - for me that day’s suspended on nails 
driven into the holes in my thinking 
© 15 October 2013, I. D. Carswell