Dogged by Nick Curnow

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Dogged, by Nick Curnow (September and October 2015)

It’s coming.
I don’t want it to but it is.
I’ve seen it for a while but haven’t been able to
work out how to get around.
Even trying to think about preparing to make a plan to start to think about it
has been too hard.
Left... right...
Maybe another way?
Is there... another way?
A way Around, to dodge this?
What I see coming.

How about Over?
Like a mountain – no.
It’s not a mountain. A mountain is too high to climb too
much rock to tackle. What if it was...
a hill, or a...
No, it’s not exactly small
Is it.

Under? Well that sounds like even more work.
I’d have to pretend it wasn’t even there to do that.
And Through would just be a cliché.

I take my heart out and stick a compass in it.
Give that a try and see where I’m led.
I hold it delicately in my palm, ardently beating.
Heat and blood and pain and rushing and hesitance and hope and anticipation
and what if and can I and could he and why can’t and make me and make him and
I see the point of the compass twitch,
moving...

Is it towards the obvious place?
I doubt it.
I think that
or I hope that
my heart knows better.
At least that’s what they tell me.