There is too much going on in my head,
The weekend papers are lying in front of me,
Willing me to read and discover more,
An article mentions apocalyptic prophecies and reactionary nihilism,
Opposite another mentions hacking Game of Thrones,
I am one of the few who has never watched this programme,
It is going to have to stay that way today.
I close the paper but even the furniture store advert seems too much,
I don’t want to know it’s the final reductions this bank holiday,
I try to blank it out.
My cereal is soaking up the milk getting softer as I write,
I eat a couple of soft wheaty pillows,
Out of the corner of my left eye,
I see the dog expectantly staring at me,
It is breakfast time after all.
I feel all peopled out but brace myself for impact,
I hear footsteps coming down the stairs,
The dog goes to investigate but the footsteps head to the bathroom,
The dog returns and takes up his station,
Hypnotic brown eyes trying to convince me,
His tail is now wagging too.
<click> running back upstairs but now returning,
“Hello,” I reply but keep my head down and write,
They have made it through the kitchen,
Through the back door and out into the garden.
It is a work day today,
But after a weekend full of people,
And a busy day yesterday,
What I really need is peace and quiet,
Was it really that busy yesterday?
A question about compost,
I finish my cereal and pat the dog,
Better feed him before I forget,
Bowl in dishwasher,
Where’s my mug?
Partially fill and turn on kettle,
Rescue mug from writing sofa arm,
Whilst the dog dances around my feet,
He hasn’t forgotten even if I have,
Grab a handful of food out of the cupboard,
See I didn’t treat my right leg this morning,
Guess I got distracted,
Don’t remember doing either leg actually,
Kettle is silent better make tea,
Another visitor to the kitchen,
We talk about work patterns and recovery time,
Review the concert last night,
Am I getting old and jaded?
What has jade got to do with feeling over-used?
Discuss my daughter’s illness,
Concern about three-day Highland adventure,
Is she allergic to the dog?
Guess it could make things worse,
Mug in hand I leave to write elsewhere,
Words flow until my wife appears,
When are we meeting?
I listen to her vent about miscommunication,
I soothe these waters,
But notice I am uneasy when she leaves,
The overwhelming feelings are resurfacing,
Perhaps writing alone is not enough,
I feel sad.