I am resting, swinging in the halcyon hammock of deafeated day. So
we swallowed some chemical wonder, just another pain prescription, just
another delay. I drifted home from Homerton hospital looking at someone
else's sadness from the top deck of a bus, her droning engine purr, a
hiss, her diesel exhalation marking the route of my thought through a
landscape suspended in oil.
Below, the random poor shuffle, clutching their poverty to their beaten
breasts and sighing into the grit-laced air. Maybe I look like them,
I'll never know. All mirrors in my world lie. If these tablet miracles
save me once more - pull me back from the edge at the last nanosecond,
where is the victory? Gloria in excelsis deo! I have been given another
lap of honour round the track of life. How long until we crash into the
barrier once more?
Searching over the ground, I have found nothing new. Anguish turned and flew and left a vacuum. I am nothing.
