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Not too cheery Max just eat and be merry -it could be fun P elderly P -----Original Message----- From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of Max Richards Sent: 19 September 2012 12:41 To: [log in to unmask] Subject: 'Flat Chat' Flat Chat Procrastination keeps me busy - flat out. Cras - Latin for tomorrow - *that* morrow - 'eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die' - that's just hyperbole for the unknown day coming our way, which right now I find easy without drink to deny. Postpone that we surely would if only we could. My mood is still: why should tomorrow differ from yesterday and the one we're in - today? Like Ted Hughes's hawk, I want to keep things this way. Sufficient unto the - etcetera - and inertia seems to keep down, or back, the dark stuff referred to. Tomorrow may just bring me more to postpone. Already I'm way overdue for dentist, eye specialist, hairdresser even. Delay may mean fewer teeth, less hair, less sight, even, to ask them to save. We don't see eye to eye, specialists and me, subsidising their golfing holiday. So, others are out and about while I'm at home, feet up, resting my eyes, blinds down - why go out where all are busy? as if what makes the world go round is business - mere busyness. It did pause for me, that world of yours, when I jumped off. I soon adjusted, called my time past time wasted. Yet I miss the spectacle, as well as new spectacles. I miss the parade of young and hopeful, intense, beautiful; a quiet stroll may let me recall what it is to yearn, to work, play, and earn. Theirs is the present. It will come soon enough, the unpostponable.