It has been a long fortnight of half-change,
Collecting tips for charity buckets
And scrawling ink in my hand-bound notebook.

I am nesting. Preparing my bedpan
For tomorrow’s hangover, as I learn
Artefacts of knowledge passed through these books.

There is no career plan. No thought of the
Ladders I’ll need to set on the brickwork,
Just to weep at the windows of success.

I am learning for the sake of learning,
and loving for the sake of a story.
Sorrow is wanted, just for the moment;

Just so that I can stumble through the door
And hold onto the receipt in your mind.
These agonised thoughts have to mean something.

If not, well, I suppose not much will change.
I’ll work this shift and retire again,
Always slipping back into a routine.