T
is for Thursday, upright on calendar, certain as February. Events aren’t so
organised, conversations chain react. A difficulty and their words take up
expanding analysis, sting later with why and what to do. A president finds the
world’s a mess, so what’s with him? A virus has struck home, no name for said virus,
call it Seven Days. Nor can things decide to be hot or cold. U is for Unsleeping,
where the spiritual exercise of abstinence, beatitude, calm, discernment,
empathy has gone round past zeal a few times, then sleep so deep even dreams
don’t intervene with pseudo-Thursday.
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