For two and a half years I wandereth,
Shattered of mind+
Drained of spirit+
At the edge of the margin of the liminal ME.
I profitted no gain,
yet lost all fame.
Even my loved ones knew me not,
despite wearing a t-shirt which proclaimeth
my name and announceth mine visage.
(A blow-up of my 1988 Passport Photo.)
In it, I look sad, because that was my childhood.
If I only knew what was to come I might have
cheered up a little.
I'm here.
I'm here.
Pull up a cheer while I table my thoughts.
And lead the chair while I wrangle my doubts.
The great thing about this place is its dark-soaked darkness,
sticky carpet and repellent service.
Let's drink to the afternoon and through the afternoon
and remember years past when the sound on the telly was
muted and so were we.
Chairs.
