Up to his neck and elbows in notebooks,
scrap pieces of paper, scrawled upon serviettes
and even old cardboard pub beermats.
There are battlements of stacked books
surrounding his oasis work desk
which houses a third eye telescope
he uses to survey his life backwards
and in randomly selected bits and pieces.
Piles of envelopes, staples, stamps,
a calendar full of scratched-out important dates.
The curtains are always drawn tight
and the window remains closed
because the songbirds outside (as nice as they are!)
distract and do his migrained head in.
The In and Out box avalanches to and fro,
organised chaos and mayhem juggling
are always the order of the hectic day.
Pacing the floor, only halfway in this world,
like a prisoner anxious about tomorrow’s execution.
But the Dance is always worth it
when the mental footwork comes together,
that bullseye volcanic shift opens
and he punches the universe in the senses
with a fistful of perfectly formed, magical energy.
More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.