Poem number 2 for April 2015, started off with a suggestion by my poet friend Kathryn that I should write some more poems about work. Then it sort of wandered off to adjoining rooms.
What if ….
this job is the job you’ll be doing for eternity
each day the same futile pursuit
the same argument
with the same tosser?
What if this person you wake up next to each morning
who bores you to tears
is the most interesting person
you will ever meet?
What if this day is the last day of your life
and is repeated tomorrow like a pair of mirrors
reflecting each other
What if this God you don’t believe in
really doesn’t exist
and the world blames you
for being right?
What if you were switched at birth
and your real parents are the war criminals
in yesterday’s paper?
What if these things you think you see
are just the remnant brain activity
of someone who’s been in a coma
for 50 years?
What if they are right and you are wrong
the lunatics really are in charge of the asylum
black is white
and Jeremy Clarkson is a genius?
What if a man really is only as good as the car he drives
the mansion he lives in,
the beer he drinks,
the deodorant he wears?
What if this planet has an exact replica
on the other side of the universe
and someone is writing this poem
there, right now?
Copyright Mike Hopkins 2015