Still between worlds infused with crazy desire to 
complete my terrible text – but overcome by tragic 
discovery my courageous attempt to thrive on dry 
beskuit led to symptomatic resurgence of allergy 
Soft rain and loud thunderclaps mirror a desperate 
prayer earlier today when stuck in an endless 
meeting; there I could tune out the meaning of 
spoken inanity, but not the resonance of it
Could not escape metre and timbre of King Kong 
and her henchmen, Crying Mock Turtle delivering 
a speech with many sighs and innumerable sobs
and Mr Dream-A-Lot riveted to his own spot
Being driven into the deep sitting in this big old car 
of a meeting, gnashing of teeth trying to escape 
the voice floating over me, nearly falling asleep 
but remaining disdainfully awake, thinking of 
Slashing my wrists and spraying blood on the 
listeners as a clear sign I’ve had enough when 
the end came, and after an anti-climax of more 
sorrowful whining by Mme La Pompadour
I ran from the meeting only to find my powers were 
spent, no more concentration to be obtained from 
my brain, I did try to get back into step, in vain 
chasing elusive meaning & strange formulation
In the end I conceded, came home to lie in your lap, 
feeling I have earned my rest… 
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