Holidays

Innumerable future selves lean to form an audience, keen to hear the result They’ll wait for hours to be betrayed –Restless Too scared to blink or speak at all I fumble everything for a home crowd - stuck in their thick berating din If they could speak they’d help me out: Tell me what I’m supposed to do and think You’re a barricade of charisma; I don’t know how to talk to you You’re a catapulted whisper splattering on flags of truce I have allegiances to characters I am now too old to be I spend the bulk of my free time pining, wishing & worrying It feels a lot like: - Getting back from a holiday you liked; - Reluctant small talk with a friend you were once much closer with; - Reluctant small talk with a colleague you feel you know too much about It’s not ideal. It’s only fine It’s not how you feel but it’s all that you are, boy It’s a lot like: - Waking up, when you’d rather be asleep; - Having things to think about when you’d rather sleep, to dream It’s alarming we’re so calm As we erode to lesser forms Far from ideal – we’ll say “it’s fine!” It’s not how we feel it’s just all that we are now