Tuesday, 25 March 2014


The funny, happy woman who yesterday
inhabited this space, known as me,
has disappeared, cleared off, gone away
and left behind this tired wreck; the sea
of chemicals which has its high spring tides,
washes clean my eccentricity,
leaves me boring, dull on the inside.
And misery is muse.  Creativity
does not depend on happiness, but still,
humour makes a pleasant change; monotony
of mood does not help insight and the will
to see things clearly under a monopoly
of cloud is hampered. And yet "Be gone dull care",
you're only hormones, not despair!

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