Trapped

Or beyond the artificial boundaries

Buffeted by external circumstances

Skipping to the rhythm of others

Regretting where I am who I am what I can do

Spiralling

In the rough waves, head above sometimes

The boat glides by, yet the ocean is behind; I

cannot see, am blinded by the spray

I search for that thing that drains my colour

turns me grey, black and white

finding possibilities in a narrowing cone, down

which I blow

I look back at alternate paths –

what route I could be treading now, only

if I had held out back then, turned right rather than left

The faceless wrestler steps out;

I grapple them as I revisit the difficult interviews of my life;

the rejections

perhaps already decided

but I turn and try to toss this bulky body grasping me

firmly, I shrink

becoming an ant, hard as nails

caught in the tweezers of my opponent.

Listen to the suno file