I mean -
'But you've got to, boss!'
Oh, who says, Voice?! Who?! I'll fight them!
'All right. Don't get upset.'
I'll bloody strangle them!
'Don't get upset!'
Eh? I'm not upset.
Anyway ...
Where are we?
'Right here, boss. On a Monday morning. The start of another week. Nothing ever changes.'
Don't bring me down, man.
Listen, kooks. I haven't been writing much poetry lately because I haven't been forcing myself the way I force myself with me conceptuals a-ROUND and a-ROUND and a-ROUND, you dig?
But I will have to force something soon. I've decided that twenty poems by the end of March will be a great result.
'You still got ten?'
Yeah, I still got ten.
Never mind.
'I thought you weren't writing about poetry in this blog, this finance blog, no more?'
I'm not.
And I'm not writing about finance neither.
'Christ! What are you writing about then, boss?!'
Ha, ha, ha!
Nothing.
I'm writing about nothing!
'Ha, ha, ha! Nice one!'
I'm not sure it's nice. But it is nothing.
'Write about something.'
No.
'Go on.'
What something?
'Any something.'
Suggest something.
'I can't. I can't think.'
Even Lucky can think. Sort of.
'Write about your walk to Richmond on Saturday.'
Okay. I walked there. Had me lunch. Walked back. Anything else you want to know?
'No.'
Uh.
Fresh start? I'll do my fresh start on the beaches and the cliffs, where I will have no choice, no choice because I will have no distractions, and - it goes without saying - I will never surrender!
'Nice one!'
Yeah, yeah.
My life.
I've got to do a conceptual today, later, like. However, if I find the time, probably later tonight, I'll write a rough draft for a free verse poem. I just fancy it today.
'What about that blankness of yours?'
Still only got six lines, son. They're so perfect ... I don't want to ruin them.
Never mind.
I'm going now.
'Are you?'
Yes. This post is finished.
Bye.
'Bye!'
ENDS
ENDS
ENDS
'Mikey's crazy, isn't he? I think -'
Voice.
'What?'
You're going too. It's the
ENDS
ENDS
ENDS
