4th and 5th March
When I wake up there are six biscuits outside my door
if I eat five then, I think, seven hundred and forty two would be left,
but I never was very good at maths, so perhaps they would just be crumbs.
Were there a way and a taste of success
And were I to have tasted and waded,
Then would I still feel the need
For countless cups of tea or would the
Sweetness of success have filled me up for good?
Were there a sound and a screech of dislike
And were I to have sounded and screeched,
Then would I feel the need to sing on and on
And on along with the radio, or would the
Solemnity of dislike have been emptied of me for good?
Were an apple as round as a sphere then I could contemplate
The shape, and speed that it would travel the floor
Between your foot and mine, but it’s a square, now, all
Red and shiny and so far beyond my contemplation that all the tea
And the singing on the radio cannot shape my thoughts into the
Sphere that I would like them to be.