The goat factor

Is it weird that I feel upset/pissed off because I've only just found out today there is a goat next door, how marvellous, a goat! Why didn't someone tell me sooner, didn't anyone think I might be interested, I so much like the thought of a goat next door, is it male or female, what breed of goat, what's its name, are they milking it (I suspect not). Why didn't someone think to tell me, I feel like I've been robbed of a simple pleasure... it probably makes me sound somewhat mad, unhinged and perhaps it is true. It's so strange (not the right word) to be cut off from things happening next door, so close and yet so far, they are building something near the house, I have been listening to hammering for weeks, a phantom building... I'm here but not here...

A woman's name

Leaving, as you do
without ceremony;
a closing comment,
huge with implication,
flung back
like the toss of a head,
weaves through
pockets of sleep
in company with
lingering regret
self-reproach
a woman’s name.

5 February 2005

Dylan said it all

"Rage,, rage against the dying of the light", others might not struggle so much, perhaps their lives are more peaceful for it, who knows...