Unexpectedness

On September 9th, I have to turn in a poem on 'unexpectedness' to be work-shopped in class as part of my master's degree studies. 

Poems are usually not scary things to write but this one, knowing who is going to read it and how critical that reading will be left me scared shitless. Something, over the past few days, probably blind panic ... concentrated my gaze and I've 'banged out' (what a nice phrase for inspiration) a few on that theme, and this is one:

Memento Mori

It should, really, be left

With the milk in the morning,

As expected and regular as

The need to turn the clock in the hall.

Or, if you like, given out with packets

Of soap in the strip -lit supermarket

Down the street; a prize for

Dirtying your linen – for living,

If you like. We could cold press it in plastic,

A prize toy for our kids

Who’d find it in the cereal box

Breakfast we serve every day;

As expected and regular as

The need to turn the clock in the hall

Although I’ve been forgetting

To do it, of late –

Then, perhaps, it would not be

Quite so sudden

Finding official letters like this

In the hall

Where the carpet watches

The clock and the heating hums

On, through it all.

It's 6.42 am, right now. Forgive me my bleary eyes but I'm starting to like this time of the day for writing and working.

Love Mizi xoxoxoxox