No Poem.

Published at Idler

There is no poem to be delivered this week

no rhyme or shape to be drawn from hastily scribbled words

no hive where a thousand pieces of past living

can wax together, to give a moment of sweetness

or even a nasty sting for those that would be careless

the mind is emptied

it takes all my efforts to repel 

that which might infiltrate
in this moment of weakness

I hope to avoid being erased and numbed,

returned to that state of adequacy

from which we all flee.

© niall oconnor 2015