fuddle

sometimes the brain stops

a warm day
nothing much going on
and i wake up you know
as though part of my head is missing
i bounce a sonar down the deep cave
there's a wall two foot away

and if i do something ordinary
i'll do the fundamentals
but nothing reminds
oi you prat
check it first
you silly sod

and the one i need most
you're ill be careful
that's gone too
so i've fucked up badly
i'll have to do the job again

is it some bug
or today's the warmest day
the reunion last weekend
something uneaten
something eaten

i've had these fuddles before
and never worked it out

even my poetry's gone plain

image: poem

2K3:6

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