Once there was an If
That wanted to meet a Then
But didn’t know when
And after many nots, no’s, and simply cant’s
If struggled to have anymore
Wait for Then
Because If and only If
Knew that Then
Would be how
If became within Life
But the more If
Encountered Else
If realised there’s still Life
Waiting for Then or not.
sound out the sounds
they are no longer words
they make no sense
being strung along
to complete a sentence
that means nothing
but
it still tries
to express
what is not there
there’s no fooling you
is there?
the listening ear
does sometimes wish
that its lips did not advise so well.
Dullish vessels
live to keep
much hidden well.
stones lay in strewn in one’s path
so that through trips
one will know how to fall
a little more well.
hope and nectared dreams
stay and seem to
keep all going quite well.
a selfish heart always
will wish its tears
were not such an endless well.
i cut into a line
and pin it in grime
until it wriggles
into a squirmy wormy squiggle
i swirl it
i whirl it
and ream it
into coiled little
curlettes
i call it unfit
i drag it through grit
and meticulously
sink it in puddles of spit
i bleed it
i pleat it
i read it
i bead it…quite taut
and when it is nearly down to a speck of a dot
i take out my inky filled pot
and gently begin to feed it
because beyond all doubt
i simply
just simply
need it.
intotheindigo 