HURTLE MIND

stand in the grey fingers of rain
outside
the 
clinic by St Mary's

i had nothing to say 
sat in the corner room
smelled of must and rust and damp
and
the
cushion on the chair
had gone WHUMMF softly and gave no support

i
searched
my blank files

i opened up slowly/a book with a bad start
a rushed second chapter 
of fits and starts
backtracks and dead-ends

stand outside in the fairy rain thats soft and clings and seeps
and
my minds like going online after MONTHS
and
getting a ton of updates pile on top of each other

its HURTLING with things i should have told the nice man
who
slumped and sagged and relaxed the more notes he took dawn
like
he
had
no muscles at all

so
i make notes too
on paper blotching with drops -
missing
buses