Thursday, March 19, 2020

Musings on Upheaved Markets and Downheaved Monies

When I watch the numbers fall
In my own wallet
And taste poorer air I'd sworn I put behind me
With each regular paycheck push

When I realised that savings
Are more noun than verb
And I dangle fretfully

A spider on a single silky thread

I see that in the balance

The world I hold is my own fragile creation

Dangling in the fickle breeze of entropy
Until at last my slippered grip falters
I fall upon gravity's sword
Only to find it a ploughshare


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 I'm bad at vulnerability     I like to tie off places  Where mess might hide Might wander in to introduce themself Until I'm all kn...