A black hole of optimism

Another rejection letter another competition to enter

Another new indie website/zine something or other

To butter up with rambling unmarketable prose

I set the computer keys up so they click clack

As the typer used to

And try to remember back to when there was more fire

Try to recall times when the maelstrom was taking us

A circling tiger with teeth exposed

Muscles coiled and ready to jump

To repeat to re-live that fear

To replace this new dull grey adult anxiety 

To dig into the dirt and shit and come up with something

Something

And after all these years I avoid any style

Duck and weave and resist entering any real form

Such is the curse of still needing to do this;

I am a painter with no school

A singer of cover songs

But how to convince people that every word I've put down

In black and white

Is all one huge black hole of optimism

Spinning there right in the centre of everything
Remains a mystery.