What I wrote today, simply because I don’t know what I got out of it besides this. We were meant to be (in a way) looking for God in the casino. I had trouble. What I ended up writing first was a sloppy mess, got home scrapped lines here and there, highly disjointed. A Psalm was the intention, but I couldn’t write one.


Chaotic – organised hurry
Where are you in this?
Pathways leading every which way.
The hospitality laden advertisments
are true to the reality.
Where black predominates through furniture,
jackets, people’s expressions, the carpet
Hospitality where the fake nature of the man at the door
is acted out with such precision
the smile is large, handshake strong, a picture of genuine
Here am I
and I’m trying to write a Psalm in a
place I find it hard to feel
Words can’t make much sense God when
each time I look up something has changed
This place is it’s own world
Happy, sad
Designed to invite people to stay
Every convienience but sunlight, space to think
What do I think?
What do you think?

Then I thought I’d better stop rambling words and write something. Haven’t written a poem or anything in a long time. sloppy again, but then that doesn’t really matter because it got my empty head on to paper.

Looking across I can see
A scrambled mess of table legs
Shaddows stretching around
Consumers legs
And I, sitting.
And old lady walks past
Her glasses out, and off
As though the need to see is gone
Walking out from the world within a world
Not smiling
Shaddows wrapping lines around
Adding lines to lines
Caught up

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