The GRIND.

You know, it’s all go.
Head down, ass up.
A manic ride of obedient forgetfulness
Until one day, it’s not
& you sit down & you take a look around
You don’t recognise the people
You aren’t familiar with the place
Someone’s squawking nonsense
Waiting for your reply
You don’t know what the fuck they just said
Now
Or ever before.
You stand up and walk into a room
Then into another
& another
Someone greets you
Then sees you off
& you wonder if that
Was necessary at all.
Now you’re cruising round
Someone else is driving
They don’t use their indicator
& it disturbs you.
When did you stop making decisions?
Who gave Jeeves the keys?
How can you have it all?
When you forgot yourself
At the door.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s