poem | 9 October 2023

I am here again.

Hell, or something like it.

And I am not surprised –

disappointed, disillusioned perhaps –

but not surprised.

The good is always fleeting,

he never comes to stay,

so I am not surprised he’s gone away.

Maybe God likes to tease me

with delusions of grandeur –

as if I’ll ever change,

or stay clean and straight.

Delusions,

of grandeur and of good.

But delusions, nonetheless.

I am here again,

more and less real than I have ever been.