Which, Of Course, I Don't
It’s very difficult to do exactly what
you should. And people do pretty much
what they want. It’s okay because we live
in a democracy. Outside there is a man
with boxes; I don’t know what’s in
the boxes but can imagine: oranges,
t-shirts, enough things for an explosion.
Along the road someone is installing
satellite TV; soon it will be time to
slip back into or out of consciousness.
Look at it this way: it depends which
way you look at it. A flower border
alongside the garden path is nice; a wave
as he walked away would have been
gracious. A van pulls up outside the door,
it has no markings; then a very big man
appears to drag a refrigerator out of it
in this early autumn, then they disappear
through a yellow door that opened for
long enough. There’s a message
on my phone to meet someone if I want
but I don’t want. It may rain today if
it wishes. When you look up into
the sky you see helicopters. Too far away
to see but not far enough away to ignore,
something is happening to someone.
You really ought to live life to the full.