I had one of those weeks that never got started

It’s not that the meds didn’t turn up at all

It’s that they turned up late

A week where you know what you need to do

But putting one foot in front of the other to do it

Is like climbing Everest.

I read the back of a chapbook today

(I couldn’t bring myself to open it)

The author had climbed the Himalayas,

Snowden and others, not only alone

But with two kids in tow

And I wonder the strength of will it takes

Not to climb those mountains

But to have two children scream

‘Are we there yet?’ at altitudes higher than

Your home.

But it’s easy to throw stones at glass houses

It’s harder when a sort of paralysing desire not to leave your house

Encourages you to reuse your cigarette butts

Harvesting them for the tobacco you didn’t smoke

To be smoked again in a newly rolled skin

Well

That’s the kind of week it’s been