Two

plus two,

always had to equal

four…

There was no scope for imagination

in the certainty of this,

so my young mind

didn’t exactly rebel

at the rumoured threat

of attending Maths,

for like school uniforms

I thought

the instruction and lessons were a waste of my time…

but English,

now

there was a

craving,

because nonsense was to be admired,

and abstract and stream of consciousness

flowed without end, from puddle to pond

to stream, to river, to the sea

and ocean

and back once more

as inspired raindrops

collected by dark clouds

of the static and the bare

white paper,

I could do

whatever

I wanted as I eroded away the confines of the bank

and wore away the concrete

of the dam

of those who worship

conformity and barricades.

Ian D. Hall 2021