The Place

Started to get to grips with it, well sort 
of, no easy task for someone who’s all 
over th’ place; recognised where I was 
on this occasion, near today’s reality - 
that edge of somewhere concrete, ok, 
certainly not quite out in space yet but 
nowhere near the floor - a lot of debris 
down there - too much for creativity 

The nuts, bolts and handholds strewn 
are no-longer possibilities, you’d never 
shape a future, build anything novel or 
new dragging that dour lot along - too 
wearying in this summer’s sultriness if 
you needed an exploitable excuse 

So we played the coup - raised stakes 
to an unachievable high and ran away 
with the prize; no-one knew the game - 
or they chose to remain ignorant as an 
affectation long ingrained by psychics 
saying there wasn't a better way 

And they may be right, but for me, and 
if I’d stayed there was no way we’d try 
pleasing everybody, so here I am - still 
all over the place yet nearer the truth of 
today’s edge which I’m gripping in my 
teeth with increasing confidence 

© 28 November 2013, I. D. Carswell