Poem 320 – Next Time…

The annual attempt to represent
my life within the cellular confines
of an excel spreadsheet.

My comings in and goings out
laid down in stark columns of numbers
and totalled up for all to see.

It’s hard to get excited about
the number of cups of tea, and stamps,
and miles I have consumed.

And so as the deadline looms
I strain to recollect exactly
what I did a year ago.

There, it’s done. Click send and breathe.
Now it’s in the accountant’s hands.
Next time, I promise, I’ll do it earlier.

With the end of the tax year falling near Easter, despite good intentions, I never quite get around to filling in my tax returns when I know I should…
(12.10.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Olga DeLawrence on Unsplash

Poem 185 – Tomorrow

Today’s a day for not looking,
for refusing to see. A day
of pretence, for living in distraction.
A day of denial, refusing to
acknowledge what waits. A toddler
holding its hands over its eyes so
it can’t be seen. Today,
I shall not feel the weight
upon my back. Today,
I dam the dike with a finger,
adrenaline stoppered for now.
Today, I write verse. Tomorrow?
Tomorrow doesn’t exist.
Not yet. Tomorrow must wait.

Tomorrow I sit my doctoral viva retake. I should be revising.
(27.04.23)

© Ben Quant 2023
Photo by Gabor Koszegi on Unsplash