Sometimes it used to get me like that: <br />Hung me up, <br />Wrung me out, <br />Seemed to stop me doing what I knew I should <br />For some reasonably unconscionable reason <br />With just about enough momentary validity <br />To be sufficiently attractive to me, <br />And send me sheering off tangentially <br />In search of that which shouldn't be. <br />Then I'd sink (not entirely unwillingly) <br />Into an armchair of inevitability <br />Clawing at me, <br />Clutching at me, <br />Sucking me slowly and steadily <br />Toward a comfortable, mild insanity <br />In which I'd be short of salvation by phone or pen, <br />But no longer caring much, by then.<br /><br />Tony Jolley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-armchair-of-inevitability/
