Units of unawareness

Write a letter to yourself and where you think you’ll be in eight years time,
the therapist told me it would unlock something in me and so I wrote that letter and put it under the clock on the marble mantelpiece.

Today at five forty three it occurred suddenly to me
that the time had come,
so I opened the letter
and read,

you will be listening to Rachmaninoff
or ‘jacking off’
still slacking off
and backing away from today

that’s where my head was then
incapable of projecting

protected in a cocoon
wrapped tight in darkness
outside the back of but
soon and how the way then
is not now.

I suppose the writing was a good idea
even though
my head was up my rear
and shows me that not
everything is a tragedy
not everything
is about me
it should be,
only joking.

© 2018, John Smallshaw.