I Can’t Bare to Swim Beneath

Life can be strangely marvellous. I am going through (yet another) existential crisis – what do I believe? The answer is I don’t know. I’m floating in a void of meaninglessness, for what we believe happily fills in the gaps. And so, just, right about to publish a re-edition of ‘On Intimacy’ I realise: there is a duplication of one poem. I choose which one to delete and think I’ll write another one now. The gap where I needed to write a poem was the poem header for the chapter ‘Meaninglessness’. Funny old life, strangely marvellous. (do you get that repetition joke?)

So here is today’s new poem:

I Can’t Bear to Swim Beneath

I scramble to make images,

of you, of me, of us –

of this thing called ‘Life’.

Breathless,

I cling to the edge of ideas,

too afraid

to sink below

too afraid

to immerse myself

in what I cannot understand.

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