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                                     … and still here I am
                           with yet another crash around my ears
                           and many poems all proclaiming
                                     the solution – I know I know

                           and I am still not listening
                           but then I suppose
                                     I am not going to stop
                                     just like that
                           I have been operating with ‘maybe this time’
                           for at least fifty two years
                           in fact I ought to be pretty good at it by now


                                              of course not
                                     if anything I am left behind
                           by younger ones with more energy
                           for ‘maybe this time’ than me
                           I am just too stuck on getting recognition
                                     and after a half-century of no recognition
                                     I want vindication as well

                                     still I receive neither – how slow can I be
                           that I do not recognise
                                     it        won’t        come
                                              it cannot come
                                     especially when I knew it wouldn’t
                                     all along

                                     I need to sit
                           yes of course that is the answer
                                     but I do not move beyond
                           even the first wave
                                     of lack-of-adrenalin
                                     of boredom
                                     of this non-maybe-this-time
                                     of this unrelenting ennui
                           I sit feeling stuck in the same old problem
                                              so I may as well run the ‘how dare they’ again
                                     and then it’s the end of the session
                                              get up read a book write a poem
                                              got nowhere

                                              but look
                                                         it is that very lack
                                     that boredom that ennui
                           just sit in the middle of it all
                                              right in the centre of the paddling pool
                                     that very feeling that puts me off
                                              that very feeling
                                                         that I have built my life and identity away from
                                     that very feeling
                                              I must sit.
                                                 g …





awareness wormhole: juxtaposition
[writer’s] block wormhole: relationship
career wormhole: dream / career / 040712
identity wormhole: Batman 168
sitting wormhole: honest
talking to myself & zazen wormhole: Big Mind