the found art of forgetting

agitation of heart
inflammation of mind
disturbance of body
rictus of soul
and yet we plough on
a million paper light
interchanges
brutalised by information
bragging about our coffee intake
rage emoji
rage quitting
manic laughter over dross
and yet we push on
following
being followed
getting nowhere
liking what we don't like
not liking what we do
swapping strokes
like monkeys in trees
picking fleas
from each other's scalp
black-pilled and lovin it
goin large and rammin it 
GIF the wineglass
as big as your body
and gulp down forgetfulness
as to Lethe you do sink
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seeking out small arguments
to get the blood flowing
usually cut n run
said too much again
too definitive
social media
breeding unsociability
instability
irascibility
the makers chuckle
into their mochaccinos
knowing we're locked down
for life
or at least the half-life
we experience
as we swap empathies
and bitternesses
cute cats 
and people falling 
in the snow
you switch off
pick up the machine
prepared to dash it against the wall
but take a photograph 
of your omelette
instead
 


searching for the perfect title
to an unwritten river

and the last line
a searchlight up
to illumine the title
in a portion of grace

why not title our days
ahead of time
see if it makes a difference

or whether it adds
burden to the backs
of minutes
till they torsion
and scream silence

yes - this is not the title
she said
the poet of suicide

despite the closed windows
some wind gets in
and makes a door bang gently

I know the view
from that window
the roundness of a hill
houses with strangers
I will never know

these times are odd times
internally
I will look back one day
and won't trace a shape on them

they will have been part
of a half-life
where time snapped away
from moorings
and the wind
found cracks
almost everywhere


very little left to speak about
after all the wearing down
by small wars
 
very little left to love
after all the tearing down
slamming doors
 
very little left to want
after all the bearing down
of failure
small problems
tip my life
into the ash
my mouth filled
with ashes
and thoughts
dry with ash
 
lying on the floor
I watch the ceiling
dissolve to sky
no moon or sun
just endless height of air
 
I turn into a ball
of heat
buzzing in a field
at night
as birds swarm
in my eyes