There are places colder and darker than this,
right now in Oslo, Reykjavik,
they’re waking too,
presing cold feet to the floor,
pulling on icy underwear,
peering into dim mirrors
to begin the search for their outside selves.
No doubt a few will be sat just as I am
peering light headedly into the gloom
to unpick the world’s
smallest knot from their shoes.
This is the curious nature of our circumstance
at any moment we can reimagine our despair
in comparison to lives we cannot see
but must believe in.
The same equation that gives us hope
that somewhere on this dark earth
there are those already on their way home from work,
in Seoul or Tokyo perhaps,
they’re weaving through dark illuminated streets
looking for a bar with air conditioning,
somewhere to undo their collar and raise a glass
and watch this Monday
drown into the waters of memory.