The blithe roll of days
Stuck in the game as well
As you can be
Does it hurt to be you?
How quickly we have defeated ourselves
Unwashed plates,
In the sinks of our souls,
Looked outside and saw you
Dragging your suitcase to the lawn
One way or another
We are all leaving and packing,
Sometimes in a hurry
But the aim of consciousness
Without conception,
Is a step ahead,
And if it helps you
Remember those whose lives are spent forever,
Sat with polite company
Waiting rooms
Bus stations
And never getting to see anyone
Go anywhere
But I’ve got a book and I’ll risk
A conversation with a stranger
How
About
You?
MB Blissett 