1184
30.iii.23
4.89
drawing a blank
what was I thinking?
or not
I had no idea
drew
blank mind
blank page
I don’t even have the question yet
but here’s blunt instrument to ask
blank soul
and running empty
fire blanks
colourless as my skin
so unseen
not a cloud in the heart
but elegant
make my blank baroque
curlicue too
a sheep white counting
dag-ended
not enough time to think
but carry across
world on its way
a little wobble
having not been before
it’s stars spun out to bright
tomorrow is the day unwritten
it’s just the same as now
I might not even be here
might never quite have been
it’s like Lear just wasn’t thinking
nothing will from nothing come
it’s nothing to me at all
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