T Shirt (2015) by Benedict Brooke

To wed and to bed, and to turn off the lights

To bed and to dead - that most silent of nights

Once born, is that it?  All that lies ahead

After break of dawn and breaking of bread?

Not journeymanship when all is done and said, but merely a holiday trip instead.

Each visit, but brief.  A whistle-stop tour – that is it, relief, the travel shop pall.

Now bears a trinket, to link it, to whatchemacall…

A souvenir of a year dead, to add to the haul.

Somewhere out there, if you scurry and run

Career at a hurry, scramble on up and on

New destination, new location, new experience, old frustration

The waste that haste loses, in translation.

Each moment which left to ferment might bear relation.

This fleeting vacation, with each truculent view

Unenduring, time spent touring

Unmemorable places, vestigial sights

Ephemeral traces of trivial nights

And when all’s said – to bed, and turn off the lights

 THE END