Title Pending

Standing in the river with pebbles in my hand
You don’t know your luck
When the stuck drawer apportions blame
To your poor dress sense

And the room disagrees with every action
Every breath a revelation
Yet to unfold

Awake in a hot sweat unable
To throw down the gauntlet of reason
When your opponent is so elusive

When the veil of dreamtime
Short-cuts your carapace
Gets under your skin

And the room now agrees without rancour
Accepts your daytime checklist
Neat and folded

Standing in the sea with the morning in my head
I don’t believe in luck
Like a stuck record I revolve
To repeat this nonsense

May 2012