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-=-=-=-=-=-=-

To No One In Particular

So it's all been going down

And nothing's been happening

our routines, for what they were,

all to cock

"Christmas!", I realise,

weeks after the stress ramps up;

one crisis after another

goes undiscussed:

Churchill's three inch pipe

can handle only so much

I'm walking more, again,

in a different part of town

dirtier. Fuglier. Fuller trams.

full of different people.

We too are different now

though I can't say how.

And it may be some time

before you know how to tell me

It's not letting me know

's the biggest hurdle

it's not letting up

on letting yourself

in on yourself

- v0.1.1

(Written in a Leuchtturm notebook in which I was writing Call Them Soldiers in the second week of December, 2020, just before I came down with what may have been Covid 19 and cancelled my first trip to Britain since 2019. This is a different version than the one I found in that very notebook three years on when I find myself surprised to realise just how long I have been here)