Has it really come to this?
http://artillerymag.com/tottenham-corner-4/
January 9, 2014
Requiem for a Fallen Racetrack
December 4, 2013
My Late Style
There no longer seems to be any point
in pointing out the pointlessness.
It hardly seems worth lamenting anymore.
After all this talk of giving up, just do it.
Don’t worry. Nobody will even notice.
November 15, 2013
Watching, Listening, Waiting
Putting in the time:
Watching: the trembling curtains.
Listening: to the constant hum of indecision.
Waiting: to languish without remorse or hope
of false dawn; to be able to do nothing
and call it nothing. To sink:
where I have never sunk before.
To fade, only to be found again.
November 8, 2013
Improvidence
The other lives I might have led
all now might as well be
dead. Survived by no one.
Barren, without issue of any sort:
this withered bud, failed
in art and love. With no time left
to change my course. But time enough
for infinite remorse.
November 7, 2013
Time Moves, But Not I
I am no stranger to waste, to bouts of tranquilizing
Self-abuse: drifting off with wilting rod in flowering fist.
Thoughts sliding like water across a pane of glass
And over the edge
Of the sofa and elsewhere. And tension detours
To parts unknown, on days that pass unknown;
Held together by dust,
By boredom and all its blossom.
October 25, 2013
Every Day Above Ground
It takes a lot of work
to create the fleeting impression
that everything is all right.
No sooner have I told myself
that I can’t complain
than I plumb a deeper vein
of dissatisfaction.
The occasional hard-won flicker of hope
is hardly worth the effort.
October 16, 2013
From Conduit to Cipher
For too long a conduit I have been,
receptive only to the works of others.
In this way, in a way, I have kept myself
going; and were it not for the pleasure
and enrichment I receive at this font,
I might long ago have given up.
Then again, I might have
achieved something myself.
October 10, 2013
CXIII
There’s no point forcing it.
I’ve been forcing it for long enough:
going through the motions, motionlessly,
directionlessly, pleasurelessly. Attempting
is no longer tempting. Other than to furnish myself
with further proof of incapacity, there doesn’t seem
to be much point in trying anymore.
Maybe I can give up after all.
I should never have doubted my ability
in that area.
October 7, 2013
To Hell and Back
Another pointless examination of pettiness and envy.
In which the word ‘subsequently’ is overused:
http://artillerymag.com/books-to-hell-and-back/
October 7, 2013
FEELINGS
I may as well face the fact
that I am no longer capable
of doing what I once believed
I was capable of doing.
Not that I had any reason to assume
that I was capable of it.
It was just a feeling that I had.
And now I have a different feeling.
John Tottenham 