The test was to set out a practice -
a daily ritual that would put life into some shape
that would map to getting older -
nearer to the inevitable.
Have to report that it didn’t work -
the rebel up-scuttled it completely
reached the place of why bother
why not bow to lifelong patterns
It did start out well, it has to be said
reflection, exercise, scribbles happened
it even embraced the good habit of
hygiene and eating
Day three brought the volta –
dramatic collapse of the party’s resolve -
lethargy prevailed and constrained -
a day of observation of the nothing.
From then on it was
limp awkwardly, painfully
out of the black hole
into some sort of shaping of time
some kind of doing, to halve the rot.
A kind of repair can be happily reported -
fraction though it is, but
fault lines are gaping and dangerous –
a jagged reminder
of the fragility of things.