Today I wear paisley
A more. modern
Jeff Banks creation
Of course now it doesn’t fit
And the cotton has dried
Already its lost some joy
Whereas in the sixties
With Mr Hendrix, and
All of those psychedelic goings on

Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Today I wear paisley
A more. modern
Jeff Banks creation
Of course now it doesn’t fit
And the cotton has dried
Already its lost some joy
Whereas in the sixties
With Mr Hendrix, and
All of those psychedelic goings on
Happy to be happy
For all of that
Which cannot be taken
From me
Such as the peace
To write this
As my lamb mince stew
Simmers in the slow cooker
Knowing also that tonight
I have a choice
Though study ought to
And will come first
Afterwards Netflix
Or Amazon or BBC or ITV
On the big screen
Via the projector
Focus on the writing
Turn the words
Into a complication
Or a resolution
Look for your way
Of destabilising
Or sensitising
Your avoidance
Swear if it suits
Fuck is a good word
Also
Not a bad thing to do
As long as
Love leads the way
Yes, be sure that love
Sets you up for the explosion
More quickly now
It’s been an ok week
Three writing groups
A trip to the shops
And the commencement
Of a BSc degree
In Psychology
And counselling
A time to begin
Judgement and commentary
Having already determined
That I prefer
The Humanities approach
Over the scientific method
But I will hold my powder dry
Listen and explore
Having the one axiom
Not to jump to conclusions